Hide'n'Seek
by beingmargoroth
Summary: If you've fought to be someone else, what happens to the person you once were? Do they disappear, vanish, or do they stay with, fighting every day to be found again? And, if they do, do you fight back?    Takes place between S2E6 - S2E20
1. Prologue

Some days were okay.

Others were terrible.

And today was one of those terrible days.

She found herself scuttling along the corridors, head down so no one noticed here, all the while looking for an escape. But here, in the prison confides of Belleville Middle School, there was no escape. The tormentors were everywhere; in the cafeteria, in the bathroom, in the locker room. It was little comfort that she wasn't alone, that there was someone else they taunted too.

"In here," came a whisper in her ear, as an hand grasped her wrist and pulled her sideways.

She found herself being huddled into a tiny room, the door snapping shut behind her. They were left darkness for a moment, before a small click chinked somewhere close to her left ear, shedding light on the janitors closet she appeared to be in. She didn't need light to know who had rescued her, however, and she was not surprised to find a curly haired boy stood in front of her, watching her carefully.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

She nodded before requested, "What about you? Are you okay?"

He nodded. "Spit balls. Nothing I haven't dealt with before."

"But still," she replied, pushing her glasses up on her nose. "You're okay?"

"As okay as I ever am," he replied. "What did they do to you?"

"It was just names again," she lied, but the sharp look in her eye told her he wanted the truth as she sighed and admitted, "And one or two people tripped me."

"Or five or six," he corrected, adding guiltily, "I saw. Sorry."

Of course he'd seen. He was her best friend, her only confidante. And she, his. So they both knew how unhappy each of them were. It wasn't the lack of friends that hurt them so much - all they needed, they had each other for - but the bullying. Ever since they'd started Middle School, it had been progressively getting worse. Especially as they were now at the age that dating was becoming a big thing - the thing, even. Unfortunately for them, dating was definitely out of the question.

She was definitely not the prettiest girl in school. She wore glasses - thick, ugly glasses - and her speech was impaired by her braces. Her hair was coarse and brown, not slick and shiny. All it did was get in her way, so she wore it in two pigtails, which only exaggerated her thick neck and chubby cheeks. She was not thin - no where close. She liked reading, a past time others looked down on. But she didn't care.

As long as she had him as a friend.

He signed, awakening her from her trance. "It'll get better, y'know. It has to get better."

"Well, it can't get much worse."


	2. Chapter 1

**A/N: Okay, so I'm going to come out and say I think this chapter is a little shaky. This chapter is based around Episode 6 (and the next one will be episode 7, then 8, etc, etc..) and I tried to make it as canon as possible - so don't shoot me if somethings are off. Glee, man.. I have no idea what is going on with their timelines, so I guess. But, yeah. Enjoy. Reviews would be nice, as I'm not over-the-moon about this chapter.. it's basically just a filler.**

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><p>Glee club was her favourite part of the day.<p>

Of course, Quinn wouldn't admit that to anyone. She was the head cheerleader, the Queen Bee of McKinley High - it was in her job description to hate Glee. Originally she'd only signed up to keep an eye (she refused to see it as spying) on her boyfriend Finn and Rachel Berry. Since then, things had changed; she'd broke up with Finn, who was now actually dating Rachel (something in the back of her mind said she knew it had been coming months before it did, no matter how hard she tried to keep them apart - not that she cared now, anyway; she was dating Sam, who'd won her over with his quirkiness), while Quinn wanted to come to Glee, not needed to. But if anyone asked, she'd deny it.

Luckily for her, no one ever did. The group seemed to see her as just a… well, something like an extra - someone there simply because they had to be (her Coach was forever determined to destroy and disband glee club, and it had been her idea for Quinn and two other junior cheerleaders, Santana and Brittany, to join the group as moles for her). Quinn preferred it this way, anyway; big solos weren't her sort of thing. She's much rather just stand at the back of big dance numbers; she didn't need to be seen, to be noticed here. That's what her cheerleading uniform was for.

If it wasn't for that, she would have been nobody - even dating the star quarterback (which, y'know, she did) wouldn't have made her as popular. Wearing it, she could do anything and everything she wanted. Except like Glee. Sometimes the mask slipped, and she showed her excitement about a certain song or performance. Today, however, it was easier for her to pretend to be the girl they thought she was; not only had she not gotten much sleep the night before, she'd forgotten her calculus homework and not understood anything in her French class. Not even the appeal of Glee or Puck's return in juvenile hall could improve her bad day.

"…all I did was crack skulls and lift weights all day."

"Wow, what a catch. I can't believe I ever let you go." she muttered, rolling a pen with her fingers from the back row.

"And now - drum roll, Finn!" their director, Mr Schuester, declared, quickly moving on from the topic of juvie; Finn obliged his request of a drum roll and beat the books on his lap, "Because I have in my hand our competition for sectionals next month…" He paused momentarily, glancing down to the paper in his hand, to read, "First, the a cappella group from the all-boys private school in Westerville, the Dalton Academy Warblers."

A round of applause and cheering went around the room, before Santana burst out, "Okay, hold up. Like, a million awesome gay jokes just popped into my head."

"And, the other team to beat," Schuester went on from the front of the choir room, "The Hispters - a first year club from the warren township continuing education programme. They're a glee club composed entirely of elderly people getting their high school GHDs."

The rest of the session passed in a blur as Mr Schue separated the club into gender groups, settling them up to prepare for their second annual girls vs. boys sing-off. Being in a group with Rachel meant that Quinn didn't have much to do; Rachel had designated herself their leader, just like she did with everything else. All Quinn had to do - and pretty much all the other females in Glee club - was sit there and nod before they were released for lunch.

Lunch. Ugh. They were only half way through the day. It didn't help know that tomorrow probably wouldn't be any better. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't shake off last year. How could she, when it had sent her toppling down the popularity hill? She'd seen the underside of it before, and she'd do anything - absolutely _anything_ - not to go back there again.

Whenever she felt like this, Quinn usually slapped herself with a prep talk, repeating over and over in her head that it was just a one-off, that tomorrow would be better; by repeating it, she hoped she would believe it. She managed to struggle through the rest of the day but, the next morning, she made a list of everything that she had - that she'd work for to get - and felt better as soon as she stepped out of the door, knowing the day would follow suit.

Quinn didn't understand _how_, really, just that things were beginning to look like they were finally going her way. She managed to blag a parking spot close to campus, she aced her English exam and Sam hadn't said a single Sean Connery impression all morning (and if he hadn't made one by then, she'd figured out there was a lesser chance he'd make one throughout the rest of the day). So she was in a much brighter mood by the time she got to Glee - and even Mr Schuester's tedious voice couldn't irritate her as he explained changes to their sing-off.

"… just making an adjustment. Boys, you are now doing songs traditionally sung by girl groups. Girls, try some classic rock - the Who, the Stones; the more opposite your choice, the more points you get."

From across the room, Quinn heard Kurt say, "Don't worry, gentlemen. I have this one under control."

_Lucky for them_, Quinn thought bitterly; by the looks of it, none of the girls were enthusiastic about the change but they were all willing for a challenge. The last boys vs. girls competition had ended in disaster; both teams had been busted for vitamin D possession before the vote, so this year the girls were looking to win the title. But Quinn couldn't help but weigh up the advantage the boys had on them. They had Kurt Hummel - Kurt Hummel who was pretty much an honorary girl, with his love for designer labels and scarves. He knew girl groups like none of the girls knew rock.

But like everything that had happened to her, all Quinn could think was _Bring it. _That did not mean, however, that she was going to spend the next week obsessing over it. As much as she liked Glee club, she had bigger, more important things to deal with like keeping her grades perfect just to keep her parents happy, not to mention the fact that her social calendar was pretty packed, what with dates with Sam and the Cheerios had a big competition coming up that they were spending every evening practising for.

Rachel Berry, of course, thought differently.

"I've told Mercedes and Tina to be in the choir room at four. Could you tell Santana and Brittany to be there too?"

Quinn opened her locker, asking her jadedly, "Why can't you tell them yourself?"

"Because they'll listen to you."

_True._ "Why have they got to be there?" she demanded instead, swapping her physics book for her world history one. "They won't come if they don't have a reason."

"You need to be there too," Rachel told her, before answering, "We should start preparing our glee performance; the boys are already preparing theirs. If we plan our outfits today - since we've already chosen our songs - then we can start making them tomorrow."

"_You've_ chosen our songs," corrected Quinn simply, shutting her locker.

Unfortunately that meant she was faced with Rachel, who meet her eyes seriously. "Make sure you're all there, okay? I know the three of you want to beat the boys just as much as I do."

Thankfully Quinn didn't have to respond; with that, Rachel walked off. Quinn forced herself not to watch and see if she got slushied. Instead, she decided it was best if she made her way to her next lesson, which she was now late for thanks to Rachel.

Rachel irritating her was a such a normality, Quinn didn't even realise when the emotion overcame her anymore. There were a number of things she could probably pinpoint as the reason for this; that Rachel thought she was better than everyone else, she was dating Quinn's ex-boyfriend… there were also some that Quinn wouldn't admit to anyone, including the fact, if she looked close enough, they were incredibly similar.

It surprised her every time she realised it, but pushing it from her mind was the only thing she could do without doing making her hate herself even more. Lucky for her, Sam could always make her feel better without even really trying.

After their gruelling glee meeting, which had ended with Santana shouting at Rachel for something completely unrelated, it was more than a relief to Quinn to be going straight to Breadstix to meet Sam. He'd been there a little while - long enough to have devised a welcoming speech that incorporated the use of breadsticks. She couldn't help but laugh; after her afternoon, Sam's company was just what she needed. So she decided to skip Cheerios practise (she knew that routine back to front, anyway) and just hang out with Sam for the rest of the night.

And then -

"_Beiste."_

Quinn shivered as she remembered the word that had slipped from her boyfriends lips the previous night. They'd been dating for a while now, and Quinn hadn't yet let him get past first base after last year; she knew she'd screwed up with Puck (Beth was proof of that). She genuinely liked Sam - evidently so, if she'd agreed to wear his promise ring - so she didn't want to screw up their relationship. But it was getting screwed up anyway.

She didn't understand what had made him say it. But she'd known girls go through a similar thing before, their guy saying another girls name, and every single one of them had came to the same conclusion; he was picturing making out with her. Taking this into consideration, Quinn had done what she'd spent her high school years doing; asking her Coach for advice. Her suggestion - to go public with her pain. She'd ignored the niggling idea that this would help Coach Sylvester get rid of Shannon Beiste, the new football coach, more than it would help her.

But, after an hour of geometry, she decided to just do it; to confront him face to face about it. In the corridor. In front of everyone walking to their last class of the day. She shouldn't have been surprised of the possibility of Coach Bieste walking past. It was actually pretty perfect. She could do Coach Sylvester's dirty work and sort out what was going on with Sam.

Only, once she had done the deed, Quinn felt more miserable than ever. She couldn't let it show; she was head cheerleader - that meant people automatically looked up to her and were judging her all the time. To see the tiniest bit of emotion would be like dropping blood into a tank full of piranhas; they would jump on it and tear her to pieces in seconds. It was hard, but it was the price Quinn paid for being who she was. So she wouldn't complain. She'd just pick herself up and carry on. She'd managed to mould herself to do this immaculately.

That was the beauty, she found, in having so much on her plate; there was always something to distract her from the bitter taste of social contact. So, instead of thinking about where she now stood with Sam, Quinn focused her efforts on that stupid glee club competition (_Why did they do stupid things like this?_ she always wondered, _They had real competitions to prepare for without starting squabbles inside the group by putting them against one another._) by attending a quick run-through of the song before helping prepare costumes.

Their performance was the next days and Rachel was freaking out; so much so that she even accused Puck and Artie of spying. Unable to help herself, Quinn told her, once they'd asked Santana and Brittany out (how their insane reverse psychology had worked was beyond her) and left, that she was taking the competition far too seriously and she should just cool it. Then, after having to sit through Rachel lecture them on why she _wouldn't_ cool it and the reason they _had_ to win, they left with a headache, all mentally wishing the contest would hurry up and be over.

It was times like these that Quinn wondered how she could love glee so much. Then she remembered the people in the group - the people who'd been there for her, the people who she'd be nothing without, even if they didn't know it.

And then she'd remember the enormous relief singing gave her; how she could bend the lyrics to fit her emotions and feelings, and sing all her problems out without anybody realising what she was _actually_ singing about. Singing "_Living on a Prayer_" for this competition, mixed with "_Start Me Up_", was actually helping this whole thing with Sam, so Quinn wasn't surprised when, the next day, they blew the song out of the park. Even Rachel was pleased with their performance, and that said a lot.

But her fight with Sam still prayed heavily on Quinn's mind, and she knew she had to do something about it - whether it was find out the truth, or just apologise. She wasn't sure, however, she wanted to apologise without know what exactly had happened. All the reasons she thought of were dramatic and, quite frankly, _insane_ - and they kept getting more elaborate the more she dwelt on it. Which was a lot.

"Y'know, there's probably a really simple explanation."

Quinn looked at Mercedes, frowning as she thought about this. "You think?"

Mercedes nodded, crossing out the Spanish proverb she'd just written incorrectly. "Sam's not really the type to hook up with his football coach, is it?"

"No," she agreed.

Mercedes was the only person, apart from Coach Sylvester, that Quinn had told about her Sam dilemma. Out of all of her friends, Mercedes was the person she trusted them most. They'd bonded a lot last year, after Mercedes had let Quinn stay at her when she'd been kicked out. She was also one of the most grounded, down-to-earth people Quinn had ever met (even if she did have her diva moments on stage), so she knew Mercedes would give her the best advice.

She smiled at Quinn. "Then ask him what it _really_ meant. I'm sure he'd rather you know the truth than believe stupid things like _that_."

Mercedes was right, so she decided that she'd ask him the next time she saw him, right away, so they could just get it out of the way, over, done. At the end of the period, instead of heading to lunch like the rest of the students, together, Quinn and Mercedes walked to the choir room for the "emergency glee meeting" that had been called only an hour before. They were the last students in, and were hurried to their seats by Mr Schuester's arrival promptly after their. They went their separate ways; Mercedes over to sit with Kurt while Quinn dropped into the seat next to Sam. She opened her mouth to speak to him, but Mr Schue cut her off.

"Okay, I genuinely hope you guys are happy. Coach Beiste has quit."

"Wait - what? That's terrible," Finn gushed as everyone in the room shared confused looks.

"Yeah, that's not what we want," cut in Sam.

"It's the _opposite_ of what we want," Artie added. "The football team was actually winning."

"Then you better put your heads together and think of a way to get her back - fast," Mr Schue told them, serious. "Because I'm actually ashamed of you. You really hurt someone who is a great addition to this school."

It was Rachel who asked what most of them was thinking, "I'm sorry, but what did we do?"

"No, it's us; the boys," Finn told them.

"And Tina," affixed Mike.

Everyone turned to look at her as she bent her head in shame.

"We sort of figured out that picturing Beiste whilst making out was even better than cold showers," confessed Finn, playing with his hands awkwardly, before adding for his girlfriend's benefit, "I mean, I don't - ever…"

It all started to make sense… "Oh, wow," Quinn muttered, embarrassed. "I - I'm sorry."

"Can I just say this is what happens when people don't put out?" Santana told them boldly, while Brittany nodded beside her. "If everybody put out, we'd have a winning football team."

Before anyone could react to her absurd declaration, Principal Figgins entered the room to call Puck and Mr Schue to his office. Everyone watched them go, intrigued, only standing when they were definitely sure the three of them had left the room. Chatter about lunch bubbled in the room as they all gathered their bags and left. At the door, Mercedes and Kurt paused at the door, noticing Quinn was hanging back.

"Oi, Blondie!" Mercedes called over to her. "You coming?"

"No, I'm just going to…" Quinn trailed, looking over at Sam who was slowly tugging his backpack on, before looking back to them. "I'll catch you guys up."

Mercedes nodded and, grinning, her and Kurt left.

"You didn't need to wait," Sam told her as they started moving.

"I wanted to talk to you," Quinn admitted, pulling him in the corridor, sighing as she admitted, "I wanted to apologise for thinking you were… It was stupid of me and - I'm really, really sorry, Sam… I just - "

He stopped her babbling with a kiss.

"I'll see you later, right?" Sam checked, taking her hand in his. "After cheerios practise?"

Quinn smiled, glad everything was okay. "Yeah, sure."

"Okay," he replied, giving her a peck on the cheek before he went to his extra English class.

She watched him go, amazed at just how lucky she was to have someone like him like her, before she turned and made her way out to find Mercedes. She was sat on the quad steps, now with Tina and Mike. She frowned as she approached the group, dropping down onto the concrete beside Mercedes.

Tina passed her a grape, which she took eagerly as she asked, "Where did Kurt go?"

Mercedes shrugged. "He said something about meeting someone… I don't know."

The conversation moved on effortless as Mike teased them about their glee performance, insisting that it was _good_ - but not as good as the boys would be. Tina and Mercedes argued back, and Quinn had to laugh at how animated the conversation become. In the end, they decided to wait until they'd both performed to decided and moved on to planning a trip out at the weekend, to celebrate the competition.

Quinn listened, lost in daydreams, as she people watched. It was one of her favourite things to do, and could spend hours watching the little movies going on around her. There was always something happened at school - one drama or another - but it was unusual for something to completely surprise her. Her eyes scanned the quad for something interesting, before going over to the building beside them. She frowned as she spotted a familiar figure on the stairs.

"Hey, Mercedes. Is that Kurt?" Quinn asked, pointing to the figure.

She frowned. "It looks like it; they've got his fashion style."

Quinn frowned as her eyes followed Kurt continue down the stairs, noticing a dark figure beside him every step. "Who's he with?"

Mercedes shrugged, not really interested. "The person he was meeting - I don't know."

While she went back to the conversation with Mike and Tina, Quinn continued to watch Kurt and his mystery companion. It was odd for her not to recognise someone at school. Even if she didn't know their name, she would know them by sight. Admittedly, she wasn't getting a good view, through the metal bars that enclosed the stairs so she was glad when they reached the bottom of the stairs. They were now metres away and she could see them properly.

One of the people was definitely Kurt; she'd know that gorgeous scarf and coat combo anywhere. But the other, she couldn't place. He was wearing a navy uniform, which had a red emblem of some kind on the top left pocket. He was short, which was quite amusing, and his dark hair was gelled into a parting.

Quinn watched as the two hugged, slightly awkwardly, before the uniformed boy stood back and smiled as Kurt walked away. It took her by surprise when the boys gaze flickered from Kurt to her, catching her mid-stare. Quinn bit her lip, slightly mortified, but was unable to look away.

She was positive she'd seen those hazel eyes before…


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: I'm not even going to bother apologizing for how long it took me to update because, despite the numerous family...err, _events_ that have happened between, I know I should have updated sooner. I've had half of this written up for a while. But it's here now, and I promise to start working on the next chapter ASAP.**

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><p>Quinn had been staring at the US History question in front of her for the past half an hour.<p>

She'd gotten in from a two hour rigorous cheerios practice that Coach Sylvester had made compulsory now she had become Principal while Figgins was off ill. While it did have it's perks, moments like this were definitely not one of them. While her parents were pleased she was back on the team (her father, especially), they were quick to remind her that she needed to keep her grades up to get into a top law college. Only, that was hard when all you wanted was your bed…

From the bed behind her, her cell phone buzz and Quinn was only too quick to jump up from her desk to go to it, wanting a distraction from her homework like never before. She expected to find a snarky piece of gossip from Santana, or a request from Sam to help him with his own homework but instead found a text from a number she'd completely forgot she had.

_We need to meet up_, it read.

Quinn bit her lip, not sure what to say. But curiosity overcame her and she replied, _Where?_

_Breadstix. ASAP._

She typed out one word and, closing her eyes, hit send. _Okay_.

There were a dozen reasons why she knew she should have said no; it was late, she still had a lot of homework to do, and revision for a test tomorrow – not forgetting, of course, that she hadn't seen him for years. But time and the present are pretty unimportant when she considered the past, and how once he had been her everything.

He might have changed. He might be completely different now. He might have texted the wrong person. Even so, Quinn grabbed her jacket and snuck downstairs, creeping along the hall - not wanting to disturb her parents – and out the back door. She knew why he hadn't given her a specific time; Breadstix was quite a drive from both of their houses. Before she'd moved to McKinley, Quinn had never stepped foot in the restaurant so she didn't quite understand why he'd chosen to meet her there.

But she didn't think too much about it, somehow knowing there was probably a simple explanation. Even when she entered Breadstix, the reasons was far from her mind. Instead, a smirk crossed her face. _I won_, Quinn thought smugly, looking around and remembering their childish competitions to be somewhere first. But she was wrong.

At first glance, she hadn't noticed him. While she remembered him as curly-haired and slightly scruffy (a rebellion against his family's desire to have him well-turned out), he'd changed. His hair was shorted, gelled a certain way, and his casual clothes had been replaced with a navy and red uniform. The only way she was certain of who he was, was by his hazel eyes. Suddenly, Quinn felt very self-conscious as she slipped into the booth opposite him. They'd both changed a hell of a lot, and they both knew that. Neither of them spoke at first, soaking up the changes before the tension between them became too much.

"I wasn't sure if you'd have the same number," Blaine began.

Quinn didn't reply, avoiding his eye.

"I wasn't sure you'd turn up, either," he told her, just trying to provoke conversation.

And it worked.

Quinn's head was a blur of questions, but all she could ask was, "Why did you contact me, after all these years? What possibly compelled you to look me out?"

For a moment, Blaine just stared at her, surprised by this unfamiliar fight, before declaring, "You've changed."

She couldn't help but snort. "Well, yeah. It has been three years."

"Three years? Wow. Times sure does fly when you're…" he trailed off, the look on her face telling him not to continue, although Blaine couldn't help but ask, "How are you, Lucy?"

"It's Quinn," she corrected, and he noticed she averted her eyes again. "I dropped my first name when I started McKinley – new start, new name, y'know?"

"How did you end up at McKinley, by the way?"

Quinn rolled her eyes. "Well, when you finish Middle School, you move onto – "

"You know that's not what I meant," Blaine objected, correcting himself, "Why McKinley? Why didn't you go to Dalton's sister school?"

"I couldn't go to Crawford Hall, Blaine!" she objected instantly. "Look at me. I'm not prep school material. My parent's aren't insanely rich. I would have been eaten alive in there."

"My parents aren't insanely rich, either," he pointed out.

"But you look the part. You pull off the blazer and tie look. I'd just look nerdy in it."

"Because you are a nerd."

Quinn smiled sadly. "I was. Not anymore."

"You're wearing a Harry Potter bracelet," Blaine pointed out, subtly objection. "The one you spent your whole summer making in the Gryffindor colours."

"I'm wearing it because… because it's all I had left of you. It was the only thing you forgot to clear out of my room."

Blaine smiled sadly, remembering as he told her quickly, "If you wanted to be Quinn, you wouldn't wear Lucy's memories."

Quinn didn't reply for a long time, playing with the bracelet, before accusing, "You never answered my question. Why? Why did you call me here?"

He sighed, before declaring, "I wanted to talk to you about Kurt."

She blinked. "Kurt? As in the Kurt that goes to McKinley – Kurt Hummel?"

"Yeah, that Kurt. I noticed you were in the group he approached when I left today."

"So it was you!" she gasped, remembering.

Blaine smiled. "So I'm guessing you were in the group?"

"Yeah, but that – Wait. How do you know Kurt?"

Blaine smirked. "Let's just say he's not the best of spies."

"Spies?" she echoed, her forehead furrowing as she thought about this. "He was spying?"

"Apparently, a Noah Puckerman sent him to Dalton to spy on us."

"Puck – " Quinn began angrily, disgusted, before realising what he'd said at the end of his sentence. "Wait. Us? You're – you're in Dalton's glee club? You're our competition for sectionals? _Blaine_!"

"I'm not spying!" he told her quickly, grabbing her wrist as she went to stand. "I just – I need you to do me a favour."

She slowly sat, frowning. "What kind of favour?"

"Look out for Kurt," he requested. "He's having a hard time right now and – it would reassure me knowing he had at least on active ally in there."

"He does have allies. We all – the whole glee club – look out for him, Blaine."

"But keep a closer eye on him, okay? Please? For me?"

Quinn pursed her lips, asking, "Why are you so interested in Kurt?"

"Because I know how he feels right now," he confessed, adding, "I was once in his position at Belleville, remember?"

She didn't reply at first, remembering exactly how their life had been at Belleville – and how she'd left that part of her behind. Far, far behind. Forever.

"Is that why you finally contacted me?" she found herself asking bitterly. "To ask a favour?"

Blaine's face was blank as he asked, "Why did you think I had?"

"I –" she began, before stopping herself, not entirely sure what she had thought.

Opposite her, Blaine's face softened. "Do you want to know the real reason, Quinn?"

She nodded.

"I wanted to see how you were doing," he admitted, smiling. "I wanted to know you were okay."

"Yeah, I am," she told him, smiling back. "I'm doing better than okay. I'm doing good."

"You're a cheerleader now," he noted, nodding to the uniform. "That's… _interesting_."

Quinn smirked. "You can say it, y'know. You can tell me you hate it."

"I don't hate it! I just… I just didn't expect you to take that route, considering…"

"Y'know what they say: if you can't beat them, join them," she shrugged, before crossing her arms. "What about you, Mr Prep School? How are you now?"

Blaine shrugged, leaning his own crossed arms on the table. "Good, I guess; I'm at Dalton, I'm in their glee club, I'm fully out… Y'know. It's good. I'm good."

"Fully out?" she echoed, slightly surprised. "How – I mean, when did that happen? The last I remember, the jocks used to find it hilarious to chase you into the closet for being _in_ the closet."

"As soon as I arrived at Dalton," he told her, shrugging. "New start, new… me, I guess."

Quinn smiled, sensing something wrong. "As easy as that, huh?"

Blaine snorted. "No! No, coming out to strangers was easy – but my parents… Well, I don't see them much now, so it's okay."

"I missed my parents so much when I stayed with Mercedes last year," she sighed. "I shouldn't of, considering the fact it was them that kicked me out, but still…"

He frowned. "You got kicked out?"

Biting her lip, Quinn realized what she'd said. "It was nothing, really. Everything's okay now. It was just… Never mind. I'm back at home now, under their watchful glare."

Blaine smirked. "Still as protective over you as ever?"

She nodded. "More, I think."

"What did they say when you told them you were meeting me?"

"…I didn't exactly tell them."

"You snuck out?"

"Yeah."

Blaine glanced at his watch and pulled a face. "It's just gone ten, so I guess you should probably start sneaking back before they notice you've gone."

Quinn sighed as she stood; he did the same. "I guess."

They didn't reply as they both left, wandering back through the restaurant and into the car lot. While she was secretly quite pleased to be finally getting home to bed, after a long day, Quinn couldn't help but feel a little disappointed with her meeting with Blaine. It had been nice, to see how he was doing and stuff, but there was still something that bothered her. Whatever it was, it followed her across to her car and, after she'd unlocked it and was about to get in, made her pause to glace up. Across the car lot, Blaine was doing the same and Quinn just knew she couldn't let them part like this.

"It was nice to… catch-up, Blaine."

he halted before standing up straight, nodding as he looked over at her. "And don't forget to – "

" – look out for Kurt," she finished. "No, I won't. I… kind of understand what it's like, having seen you go through it."

Blaine smiled. "I'm glad you're okay, Quinn."

"Ditto."

After a small, awkward tension, they both began getting in their cars again, before Blaine's voice called out, "We both deliberately avoiding saying goodbye, aren't we?"

Quinn smirked as she admitted, "Yeah."

Blaine nodded. "Good."

She frowned. "Why?"

"Because I'm going to make sure we meet up again. Soon."

"Next time, just make sure I have less homework to do."

Blaine laughed. "Deal."

Between that laugh and the numerous Spanish nouns she had to remember for tomorrow's quiz, Quinn didn't sleep very well. She didn't get to sleep long after she'd gotten in from her secret meeting with Blaine, her mind continuously replaying it until the battery died and it shut off. Then, for some reason, she woke at stupid o'clock in the morning and, unable to get back to her dreams, she had to settle on a hot shower and breakfast in front of the mind-numbing children's cartoons.

Luckily for her, due to Mr Schue's sudden illness, the Spanish quiz was cancelled and the choir meeting was so eventful, Santana's ranting kept Quinn from dozing off. It was as the bell went for lunch that she remembered just why she was so tired, spotting Kurt leaving the choir room. With a sudden boost of energy, Quinn quickly gave Sam a kiss before hurrying after the diva.

"Kurt! Mercedes!" she called, dashing after them. "Wait up!"

They stopped, frowning as she caught up with them.

"Don't you have a cheerios practice right now?" Kurt asked.

Quinn shook her head, choosing her ex-best friend over her coach. "Not today," she lied, hoping this was worth it. "So I was hoping I could get lunch with you?"

"Sure," Mercedes grinned, linking her arm with Quinn's. "The more the merrier!"

"So what did you think of glee club?" asked Kurt conversationally as they entered the canteen. "I am shaking – and it's either from rage or low blood sugar. I knew it was only a matter of time before Rachel took over."

"We'll forget all about it tonight at bowling," assured Mercedes, moving forwards as the lunch queue surged.

"I can't. Blaine asked me to hang out."

Quinn bit her lip, focusing on getting her lunch, trying to act indifferent now her ex-best friend's name had been thrown into the conversation.

"But I've been looking forward to it all week," Mercedes replied, pouting a little to show her disappointment before frowning. "Wait. Are you two going out? Because if you are, you need to come clean."

"God, no. I don't want another Jesse-Rachel scenario to overcome."

"We'll be happy for you," Mercedes told him. "We know how lonely you've been."

Quinn nodded.

"We just hang out," he stated. "Nothing about glee club ever comes up. It's just nice to have someone to talk to."

Mercedes frowned as Kurt moved off to pay. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means someone like me," he replied, bored. "But I promise to make it up to you. We'll hang out Friday night. You too, Quinn, if you want."

She smiled as they sat. "Thanks but my parents are having this big family meal because my sister's back from California."

Kurt shrugged. "That's fine," he assured, before frowning as he looked around. "Where did Mercedes get to?"

They both scanned the room, eventually finding her still getting food in the canteen. She was stood by the potato tots, beaming as a cook spooned heaps onto her plate. Kurt rolled his eyes at Quinn, who smirked; they both knew about Mercedes' love for tots. They turned back to their own lunches and Quinn decided to use their time for her own advantages.

"So, Blaine, huh?" she asked, taking a sip of her water. "Is he the guy you were with the other day? The one you hugged?"

Kurt looked up at her. "You saw that?"

She nodded. "Hard to ignore a uniformed guy at a free wear school."

Satisfied, he nodded as he went back to his lunch. "Well, that's him. He goes to a private school in Westerville."

"Dalton," she said, before adding quickly when Kurt frowned, "I mean, I recognized the school emblem on his blazer."

When Kurt didn't reply, Quinn found herself asking, "So, do you like him?"

"We're friends," he repeated.

"Sure," she replied, secretly smirking; she'd heard herself use that tone, just before she got together with Sam.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: So I had this pretty much typed up, but then I decided to re-write it - and I'm glad, because this is better. Also, since "Furt" is kind of a big episode in terms of Kurt and Quinn, I had to split it so the next chapter will be episode 8 too. so don't get mad if this chapter misses things you felt should have been included; they're probably in the next one.**

* * *

><p>"Quinn, can I talk to you for a moment?"<p>

Surprised, she turned to find Sam stood beside her, a smile on his face. Although it was a lovely sight (no one could deny that), it worried her. Frowning, she nodded, shutting her locker softly before following him down the busy hallway and into an empty classroom. She watched as Sam dropped his bag onto a table and began looking around. There was silence, which unnerved her even more.

Swallowing, Quinn broke it by asking, "So what did you want to talk about? In private?"

"These galactic mobiles aren't the stars of McKinley. We are. Or, at least, I want us to be."

Despite herself, Quinn snorts. It was so cheesy, but that was Sam. And it was kind of one of the reasons why she liked him so much, but she'd never admit it because, more than often, it drove her mad. It was hard to have a proper conversation with him when he said things like that.

"I think I love you."

For a moment, she just stared at him, not sure she'd heard correctly. But with each passing second, with his eyes on hers, waiting, she began to realize he had indeed said those three words. Quinn swallowed, not sure what to say, settling with an "Oh."

"Look, my shoulder's healed. I'm going to be the quarterback again soon," Sam began to explain; although, like a lot of his logic, it didn't make much sense to her. "You're already the head cheerleader. So…"

She watched, frowning, as he bent down on one knee before pulling out a ring box. Biting her lip, not believing what he was doing, Quinn watched as he popped the velvet lid open to reveal a silver ring, sparkling in the Monday morning light streaming into through the window. Whatever she'd been expecting – hoping, wishing for – it was definitely not that.

"Oh, my God. Are you proposing?" she asked quietly, her heart beat increasing. "We've known each other for six weeks. Stand up; you're freaking me out."

"I want to marry you. Someday," he admitted. "Until then, will you accept this promise ring?"

Quinn shook her head, still not believing this. "What are you? Six?"

"If you accept, this ring will symbolize my promise to you to be true, to never pressure you into doing any more than kiss, to this to your problems or tell you when you have food in your teeth. Or eye gunk. To come over to your house when you need something heavy moving. I promise to make you feel proud when you point down the hall and say, 'That dude's my boyfriend.' I promise to do all those things. I really care about you, Quinn, and I want us to be together. "

For a brief moment, she considered it. She considered all those things; considered the simplicity, the normalcy of them all. Especially the second. But that was why she reached out and snapped the lid of the ring box shut, pushing it back to Sam. As much as she liked Sam, she just wasn't ready to let him commit himself to her like that. Because, if it had been her, she wouldn't have.

Sam licked his lips, looking from the box to her. "Is that a no?"

Quinn took a deep breath before confirming, "It's a maybe."

He nodded, standing up and smiling softly. Sam understood; on their first date, Quinn had told him last year had been hard on her (he had heard little packets of gossip, which she worked with to protect the truth) and explained that dating wasn't really as good idea for her right now. Since then, Sam had set out to change her mind. Bit by bit, it was working. But she refused to go down without a fight.

Taking a deep breath, Quinn left the room after Sam, planning on heading to the bathroom before her first lesson. But, out in the corridor, she stopped. Across the hall, by his locker, Kurt was stood with Karofsky right in his face. She wanted to march over and stop whatever was going on, but fear kept her back. She watched as the bully took the wedding figurine from Kurt and walked away, smirking. Quinn watched, wide eyed at the galls of him. She was tempted to go after him, but Kurt's trembling shoulders stopped her. She began towards him, one thing on her mind, just as Mr Schuester reached him. Quinn watched as the teacher led Kurt away, before groaning as she pulled out her phone. This was too much drama for a Monday morning.

Instead of getting better, it got worse.

On Tuesday lunchtime, Rachel called a meeting in the choir room. When Quinn turned up, she was surprised to find that, instead of the whole glee club like she'd thought, the only attendees were herself, Tina, Brittany and of course Rachel. Tina echoed her frown as she took up the seat beside her, and it was a little reassuring to know that not only Quinn was in the dark about the nature of this meeting. They seemed like an odd collection – two cheerleaders, a shy goth and Rachel – but Quinn decided she might as well find out why they'd been called.

"Ladies, the Kurt-Karofsky bullying situation is getting way out of control," declared Rachel, beginning the meeting. "Kurt's miserable and he's losing weight – not in a good way – and he's barely even fighting me for solos anymore. "

"We've all been teased, but something about what Karofsky's doing is so much worse," Tina agreed.

"We're all lucky enough to have boyfriends on the football team so I say we ban together and make them confront Karofsky."

"Okay, first of all, I'm not dating Sam," Quinn quipped up, sick of people always presuming that about them. "And secondly, I think you personally just set the feminist movement back fifty years."

"Guys like Karofsky only respond to muscle," Rachel defended.

"So we're gonna fight violence with violence?" she asked angrily, remembering her past.

"No! I'm not saying that they should hit him. I'm saying that we need to defend Kurt, and there's strength in numbers."

While Quinn tried to work out the logic in that, Tina lent forwards and spoke to Brittany across her, saying, "I'm confused. Are you dating Artie now?"

"Deal with it," she replied.

The two of them began gossiping while Santana entered the room, angry at not being included in the meeting. Between them, they managed to convinced her that a) she wasn't dating Puck and b) even if she was, Puck couldn't be included in their (in Quinn's eyes) mad plan, because he was still on probation. Giving them all dirty looks, she left, allowing Rachel to give them one last plea before the bell rang for the start of lessons.

"Okay, if something bad happens to Kurt, and we didn't do anything to stop it," she said quietly, scared of her own words, "we'll never be able to live with ourselves."

Quinn shivered, remembering all the times she'd heard someone say that about her. Always by one person, too. Blaine. He'd always looked out for her, when they were only really picking on her because of him. And now he was looking out for Kurt, in any way he could – and, mostly, that was through her. Sighing, Quinn took out her phone and sent Blaine a message, knowing he'd want to know they had some sort of plan. Her phone buzzed a moment later with a reply.

_(13.32)_

_Tell me more later at Breadstix? B_

_(13.35)_

_Fine. But you're paying. Q_

_(13.39)_

_Sure. 7.30pm. See you then. B_

Although she'd agreed to meet, Blaine, Quinn was still nervous when she entered the restaurant at half past. She hadn't seen him since their last meeting, and a lot had happened since then. Namely, concerning Sam. Even though she was sure she'd made the right choice, she couldn't help but doubt it. After all, would it be so bad if she accepted his ring? It wasn't an engagement ring, after all. It was a promise ring, which was much different. And everything Sam wanted it to symbolize was pretty reasonable. But to be in a real relationship… she wasn't sure she was ready for that, yet.

"Penny for your thoughts?"

Quinn looked up to find Blaine slipping into the seat opposite her, a smile on his face. "Hi."

"Hi," he echoed. "How are you?"

She shook her head, sighing. "Coping, I guess."

"Stressful few days?"

"You could say that," she agreed. "How are you?"

Blaine shrugged. "Y'know, the usual. Feeling a bit better now after your text earlier."

Quinn snorted. "I wouldn't hold your breath that it'll make much difference. Karofsky doesn't really listen when people talk to him."

"Yeah, I know that."

"You've tried?"

Blaine nodded before pulling a face. "He kind of shoved me against a wall."

She bit her lip. "Sorry."

"I'm fine. I'm more worried about Kurt," he admitted, pausing before he asked, "Are you going to tell me about this plan, then?"

Over dinner, Quinn explained about Rachel called them for a meeting. Blaine sat and listened silently as she told him what she wanted them to do, before admitting that she hated the idea, finding herself ranting slightly towards the end. Quinn stopped, biting her lip as she realized.

"Sorry," she apologized. "Sometimes I just need to let it out to someone."

Blaine shook his head. "No, it's fine. I was just… thinking."

"About?"

He didn't reply at first, before admitting, "Sam."

"Sam?" Quinn asked, frowning, before she realized what he meant. "Oh."

"What's he like?" Blaine asked, trying to be indifferent as he stirred the melted ice cream in his bowl. "I mean, you used to be really fussy about boys."

Quinn smirked. "Because the guys at our middle school fell into two categories, Blaine; jerks or you. But I still am fussy. Well, I'm trying to be."

Frowning, Blaine put his head on his hand. "What do you mean?"

She opened her mouth to explain, but quickly shut it and shook her head. "Nothing, it's fine."

"_Quinn_."

She shook her head. "I'm not telling you all my love life problems, Blaine."

"Why not? I could help."

"Because I'll tell you about Sam and you'll instantly like him, because you don't understand why dating is not a good idea for me right now."

"So you _a__re_ dating him?"

"No. Not really. We're not a couple – we've just gone out a few times… and made – look, Blaine, I really don't think we should be talking about this," she told him loudly, turning to gather up her coat and bag. "We came to talk about Kurt and we've done that – so, if you don't mind, I have to be going. Thanks for dinner, Blaine."

"Quinn – "

"No," she told him sharply.

Blaine stood quickly, reaching out to grab her wrist and stop her. "Quinn, stop. You can't just run away when you get confronted with something you don't like."

"That's rich coming from _you_!"

He dropped her hand as if it had burnt her. "Wow, way to beat the stereotype there."

She glared at him. "What do you mean?"

"All cheerleaders are supposed to be coldhearted bitches, and you just aced that personality test."

"Well, I'm sorry for making the most of what I had!" she snapped. "What else was I supposed to do when my best friend had just gone off and deserted me? I couldn't sit on the outskirts any longer, Blaine; not by myself. So I'm sorry that I wasn't as strong as you and broke to peer pressure! I'm sorry I got scared and found something to keep me safe! I'm sorry you ran away and missed out on it all!"

"Well, I'm not," Blaine hissed. "I'm just sorry I came back."

Hands clenched, Quinn stared at him, hating him even more for being able to fight with her in such a controlled manner. She was close to screaming, and it was taking all her power to stop herself, to keep that one bit of dignity. So, instead of hitting him, or screaming, or anything else she wanted to do, Quinn glared at him one last time, before turning and walking away, trying not to run from the room. She was calm all the way back to her car, not letting the tears stream down her face until she'd reached her bed.

Blaine and her had only ever fought once in the duration of their friendship, when Blaine had left. It wasn't much of a falling out, even for a thirteen year old standard. They just hadn't talked; Blaine had told her he was leaving and Quinn hadn't said a word – she'd just stood and watched in a gloomy bubble as he cleared all his belongings from her room, all his memories and all the pieces of him so she had nothing left when he left. While the words had been there, lodged in her throat, she had kept silent because she knew this was what Blaine needed. She'd seen the scars the homophobic bullies had left after their attack on him before the Sadie Hawkins dance.

But this was different. She didn't know who was in the wrong, or who was in the right. While Blaine should haven't probed her again and again about Sam, she shouldn't have dragged up his departure. But she wasn't going to say sorry first. Blaine had started it. If he hadn't of kept on at her, she wouldn't have snapped. Then again, if she'd told him why she didn't want to date then he wouldn't have asked.

_No_, her mind told her firmly. _It's Blaine's fault._

Luckily, Wednesday took her mind off of their fight. For a bit.

Just like Rachel had planned, Tina and Brittany had asked Mike and Artie to speak to Karofsky… only it had gone exactly like Quinn thought it would. But it wasn't either of the boys that had gotten hurt, it was Sam, who'd jumped in when the bully had pushed both Mike and Artie over. At the sight of his blackening eye, Quinn's stomach tightened and she found a bag of ice of put his eye to help the swelling. Sam winced as she pressed it against his face, but smiled thankfully at her. She smiled back, proud that he'd taken a punch for Kurt. But it didn't change anything. She still didn't want to be in a relationship just yet.

After the fight, Quinn's mind got consumed with preparing for Burt and Carole's wedding. They spent their glee meetings practicing their choreographed opening dance for the ceremony (Kurt had planned for everyone to dance in, and Quinn couldn't wait to see that) and, the night before the wedding, the girls had their last dress fittings at Kurt's house. While the others headed there straight after school, Quinn had to rush home to complete some homework (due to it being a Friday night) before she joined them after dinner.

"Sam make an unexpected visit?" enquired Mercedes, eyebrows raised as she joined them in Kurt's bedroom.

Quinn rolled her eyes, plopping herself beside them on the bed. "You know I had homework."

"Sure, sure," replied Tina, smirking.

Mercedes picked up a magazine and began to flick through it, asking, "What's going on between you two, anyway?"

She opened her mouth to deflect the conversation, not wanting another enquiry about her love life, but Kurt got in first, saying, "It doesn't matter. You're cute and you're dancing together at the wedding – and that's final."

"I wouldn't dare upset your wedding," Quinn protested quickly, upset at the thought.

Suddenly, Tina and Mercedes burst out laughing. Kurt and Quinn looked at them, confused, before the giggles suddenly overpowered Quinn too as she realized. _Your wedding_. It would be a long time until Kurt got married, but he'd become so invested in his father's wedding that it felt like it was his now. Burt honestly didn't mind what happened, not the one for this sort of stuff, while Carole was still getting over the high buzz of being proposed to – which left Kurt running the ship, sailing it wherever he wanted to, including on the high seas of glee.

"Kind of typical, huh?" a voice shouted in her ear over the roar of music.

Quinn turned and found Sam leant closer to her, grinning as the disco lights coloured his blonde hair pink and blue and green. She smiled, lifting her hand to touch the bruising under his bad eye, and nodded. She understood what he meant; when anyone said the words 'Kurt Hummell' to her, Quinn automatically thought of music and fashion, as well as friends and family. They meant the world to Kurt so, by including the Glee Club in the wedding, he'd managed to mix everything together to create something kind of perfect and definitely unique.

"One of the best weddings I've been to," Sam told her, leaning close again to murmur in her ear, "It would be the best if you agreed to dance with me."

Quinn laughed and nodded, taking Sam's callous fingers in hers. "C'mon, then."

While their previous dance for the wedding had been choreographed, this one wasn't. Since it had been Sam's idea, Quinn let him lead, spinning her around the dance floor while she burst out laughing when he broke into random 'freestyle' moves. It was only when she got home that night, after being dropped home by Sam (complete with a goodnight kiss from her), that Quinn realized exactly why she liked Sam; with him, she was able to forget everything as she laughed at his cheesy jokes and bad dance moves until her chest hurt.

And, after everything that had happened to her, that was exactly what she needed.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: I was torn between posting this quickly, and waiting as I'm not too sure how long it'll take for to type up the next chapter. But I thought, since this one is basically part 2 of the last chapter, I should probably give it to you now. So here you go. Enjoy.**

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><p>By midday on Sunday, Quinn knew she couldn't put it off.<p>

As much as she didn't want to face the fact that she needed him, Quinn knew that Blaine was the only one she could turn to right now. While Mercedes was the obvious choice, somehow she didn't feel right turning to her to ask advice about this. She probably would know give her better advice, but Blaine had always been the one she'd turned to with a problem. That was, before he'd moved schools. Now he was back, Quinn only wanted to speak to him. But to do that, she needed to apologize.

Biting her lip, she decided to just do it and get it out of the way. She went over to her desk and fished her cell phone out of the purse she'd used the night before, shocked to find her inbox full of new text messages. Frowning, she opened and read them, not sure whether to laugh or cry.

_(20.03)_

_I know you're probably still at Kurt's dad's wedding, but I wanted to say I'm sorry, Quinn. I shouldn't have asked about Sam._

_(07.56)_

_Okay, so I just woke and you haven't replied. Not sure if that's good or not._

_(09.12)_

_Quinn, I'm beginning to think you still hate me._

_(09.34)_

_Do you still hate me?_

_(10.48)_

_Oh God don't hate me._

_(10.57)_

_I'm sorry._

Sighing, Quinn dialed Blaine's number and wandered around her room, aimlessly tidying as she waited for him to pick up. As it began to get closer to his voicemail answering (Quinn had run Blaine enough times to know that his phone rang nine times before it went to voicemail), she began to worry, only to sigh in relief when Blaine gushed a greeting.

"I thought you were still pissed at me," he admitted, and Quinn heard a door snap shut as he sighed. "Sorry to spam your inbox. I kind of began to freak out. I don't want to lose you as a friend again."

"Me neither," she agreed, collapsing onto her bed as she took a deep breath, gathering her courage. "That's why I – I need to be honest with you, Blaine."

"About what?" he asked carefully, adding when she didn't reply instantly. "Quinn?"

"Can you come over now?"

"Sure. Of course. I'll be there ASAP, okay?"

"Okay," she agreed quietly, saying goodbye as Blaine hung up.

And now Quinn waited. Telling him she wanted to be honest, arranging to tell him – that was easy. But being able to say it, to get it all out in a calm and collected manner – that was going to be hard. She just wanted to be honest and she knew that, if she wasn't careful, she'd just blurt it out and overwhelming. _One thing at a time_, she told herself, hearing his car pull up half an hour later. Although she had planned to come clean about the pregnancy, but she decided it was best to start with Sam and sort that out. After she'd apologized, of course.

"I'm sorry," she blurted, as Blaine entered her room. "I should never have said those things about you leaving and I feel really bad about it."

He shook his head, toeing off his shoes. "No, I shouldn't have asked about Sam. I should have guessed you didn't want to talk about it by the way you kept deflecting the conversation. I just – I miss knowing little things about you, Quinn."

She nodded. "That's why… That's why I needed to talk to you. I want you to know… Well, I need your advice, but the only way to get it is to properly explain my love life."

"It's not as complicated as you just made it sound, is it?" Blaine asked doubtfully, sitting on her bed and frowning. "I don't believe anyone's love life is as complicated as you made it sound."

Quinn laughed nervously. "Well, it is pretty complicated."

"Oh, God," Blaine groaned, taking a deep breath as he fidgeted before nodding. "Okay, I'm comfortable. You can begin."

"Well… I guess it starts with Finn. He's captain of the football team at McKinley, and now he's Kurt's stepbrother. Anyway, when I became head cheerleader, the rest of the team seemed to think it would be a good idea if we got together – being the two most popular people in school. So we started dating and – y'know, we were kind of perfect.

"But then… I don't know. I'd never had guys look at me and like me like that before. Back at Belleville, the only guy who liked me was you. So to have all these guys want to date me… I don't know; I just got a bit overwhelmed and greedy, I guess."

"You cheated on Finn?" presumed Blaine.

Quinn winced at his disappointed tone. "I know, I know. It was stupid. It was incredibly stupid, but I did. I cheated on Finn with his best friend, Puck, and it got really, really complicated. When it got out, the whole school turned against me last year. I didn't really have many friends, or anyone to turn to because everyone hated me – Christ, even I hated myself."

"Is that why you got kicked out?"

She faltered before deciding to admit, "Yeah, kind of. But that's not important right now. Just – just forget that. Focus on the fact that I cheated on my first love because I got spoilt and mean. I got kicked off of the Cheerios. I lost everything, Blaine.

"So this year, I set out to get it all back and I have. I'm captain of the cheerleading squad, I'm back at home – everything is going okay again. But then Sam…. I like him, Blaine, I really like him. I'm just scared that history will repeat itself."

Blaine frowned. "Why are you scared? If you like Sam enough, you'll be faithful to him."

"It's okay saying it but…" Quinn trailed off, before sighing. "He wants me to wear a promise ring, to make it official."

"And?" he asked, shrugging. "You wore the ring I gave you?"

"It was a friendship ring. That's different."

"How? For both, you're promising to stick by someone, no matter what."

"So you think I should say yes to the ring?" she summed up, sighing as she sat next to him. "I just don't want to do ruin things."

Blaine nudged her shoulder with his, smiling. "You're clever, Quinn. You won't."

So with Blaine's approval, Quinn walked into school on Monday knowing what she was going to do. Using the skills her sister had taught her long ago, Quinn broke into Sam's locker and found the ring box. She slipped it on, admiring it for a moment, before shutting Sam's locker and heading to class as the bell went. It was only at lunch time that she managed to catch up with Sam and tell him, once she'd given him something of her own.

"Arnica. Twice a day. It'll help with your bruise," Quinn told him, smiling as she handed over the cream for him.

Sam looked at it, before smiling at her. "Thanks."

She nodded, before taking a breath and beginning, "I've been thinking a lot about what you did for Kurt. It made a real impact."

He chuckled. "I thought the only impact that was made was Karofsky's fist on my face."

"You saw what Finn did at the wedding; that was because of you" she reminded, pausing before she grinned. "We've been talking this whole time and you haven't even realized I'm wearing your ring."

With a bemused frowned, Sam looked at her hand, leant against hi locker. "How did you get that?"

"Oh, I broke into your locker. I've always been handy with a nail file."

"Really?" he asked, smirking.

Quinn bit her lip to hold back a smirk too as the bell went. Without another word, she met Sam's eyes before walking away, crossing her hands behind her back and flexing her fingers, showing off the ring. As soon as she was out of his sight, she allowed herself to give in and spent the rest of the day with a permanent smile on her face. It was surprising how good she felt after doing something so simple as wearing a ring for someone. Blaine was right; there really wasn't much difference between a friendship ring and a promise ring, just the romantic element.

Her good mood didn't last long after the bell went for the end of school.

With Sectionals coming up, the glee club had begun to keep their afterschool sessions that they'd used to practice for Burt and Carole's wedding to use getting ready for competition. It was still as few weeks away, but after last year's dismal performance at competition they wanted to be ready. Well, Rachel wanted to be ready. As soon as Quinn stepped foot in the room, Rachel's voice was all she heard, droning on and on about what song she thought she should sing. Quinn thanked God that Mr Schue entered the room soon enough to stop Rachel's voice giving her a headache.

Just after him, Kurt entered and Mr Schue turned to him with a smile. "Oh, Kurt! Good. I wanted to talk to you about this amazing idea I had for a solo for you at Sectionals."

"Can I make an announcement first?" he asked.

Mr Schue nodded, stepping away from the piano and letting Kurt take center stage.

"First, I want to thank you guys for what you did at my father's wedding," Kurt began, and Quinn frowned, not liking his timid, nervous tone. "Especially Finn. It's nice to know that I have great friends here, as well as a true brother. Which is w-why it's so hard for me to leave."

In the breath moment it took for Kurt to take a breath, Quinn let out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding, looking around the room to see that the same emotions of sadness, disappointment and shock were echoing on everyone's face in the room.

"What do you mean – _leave_?" she blurted, sitting up from where she'd been leant against Sam.

"I'm transferring," he went on in the same shaky tone. "To Dalton Academy. Immediately. My parents are using the money they saved up for their honeymoon to pay the tuition."

When Kurt had first said it, Quinn wasn't sure she'd heard right but, as soon as Kurt had said that, it not only became real, it made sense. The felt the laugh of disbelief, unable to believe it had taken her so long to make the link, bubble up in her throat, but she swallowed it, knowing now was not the time. Later, she'd talk to him about it, come clean with Blaine's plan. But, for now, Quinn could do nothing but sit there and take in that one of her friends was leaving. It brought back bitter memories of middle school.

"Kurt, you can't leave," choked out Tina.

"What the hell, dude?" Finn blurted, getting up and walking towards him. "How about you talk to me about this first?"

He shook his head. "Sorry, Finn, but there's nothing to talk about. Karofsky's coming back tomorrow… which means I won't be."

"We can protect you," Sam told him, and Quinn found herself nodding along.

"Seriously. We can form a perimeter around you like the secret service," added Puck.

"Yeah," agreed Finn.

"The only thing that can really protect me is what they have at Dalton; a zero tolerance, no bullying policy," Kurt objected. "It's enforced."

Mr Schue nodded, understanding, while Rachel's voice piped up, "Does this mean you're going to be competing against us at Sectionals?"

The group turned and gave her a dirty look, not really surprised that she was thinking about herself at a time like this.

"Kurt," began Mercedes, standing up and walking to him.

He shook his head, tears forming as he began to walk backwards towards the door. "I'm sorry. I have to go."

They watched as he left and, for a while afterwards, none of them spoke. When someone did break the silence, it was only to cancel their meeting tonight, none of them able to concentrate of preparing for Sectionals now. It a different, gloomier headspace, they left, none of them talking except for Rachel. Quinn stopped at her car and watched as she tried to evoke Finn into conversation, but he just shook his head and slipped into his car.

Kurt may have felt alone, but there was a lot of people at McKinley that had cared deeply about him. It was going to be hard adjusting to school without him. But while a lot of them were thinking about that, mourning what they'd lost, Quinn was actually feeling okay. It wasn't like Kurt was going to some random other school; he was going to Dalton – the same school Blaine had run to. There, he wouldn't be alone and, most importantly, he wouldn't get hurt. It hurt to admit it, but Dalton was the best place for him. If anyone could help him, Blaine could.

"Blaine," Quinn muttered as it hit her, reaching over and groping for her phone in her bag on the passenger seat. He'd want to know.

But it wasn't her place to tell him.

It was Kurt's.

So, instead, when she reached Blaine's answerphone (the Warblers, like New Directions, had taken up afterschool meetings to prepare for Sectionals), Quinn said in her calmest voice, "Hey, Blaine. When you've spoken to Kurt, call me. It's been a crazy day and… Well, I want to talk to you about it, because that always helps. So… um, yeah. Call me. Bye."

Quinn hung up and dropped her phone back in her bag, collapsing backing in her chair, wondering if she was ever going to have a sane day. Probably not. Sighing, she sat up and clipped her seat belt on, putting her keys in the ignition and turning them, starting the car. As much as she wanted to just sit and mope over Kurt's news, she knew she couldn't. She'd done that once before, and it hadn't ended well. She had to get on with her life, whether she liked it or not.


	6. Chapter 6

_(13.12)_

_Since you freaked out when you heard I was a Warbler, I'm guessing Sectionals is automatically off our list of conversation topics. B_

_(13.20)_

_Probably best. Don't want you cheating, now. Q_

_(13.21)_

_Who said *I'd* be the one cheating? :p B_

Quinn shook her head, a small smile on her face as she put her phone away. She didn't like being teased or bullied in any way, but somehow it was always okay when Blaine did it. Probably because she'd spent her childhood teasing him back. When she'd told him about Sam's ring, he'd teased her rotten, putting on an odd accent and gushing over it in the middle of the coffee shop. All Quinn had been able to do was laugh and retracted her hand, shaking her head at him. But she was glad he approved; she doubted she would have done anything if he didn't.

"Who was that?" Sam asked, lifting his arm and wrapping it around the back of her chair.

"No one important," she replied, pressing her lips to his cheek as Mr Schue entered the choir room.

In the front row, Rachel was immediately out of her seat and walking towards him, gushing, "Mr Schuester, I have an announcement. I've selected the perfect moving ballad for Finn and I to sing to launch out performance at Sectionals."

Quinn rolled her eyes. _Here we go…_

"Me first," he told her. "Two things. First, our competition at Sectionals are your classic stool choirs. Great voices, but they don't move. Now, if we're going to beat them, we need to do what they can't: dance. Which is why I've decided to feature Brittany and Mike Chang's sweet moves in our performance."

Everyone but Rachel began talking excitedly, happy with this decision.

"They're gonna dance in front of me while I sing my solo?" she asked.

"You're not getting a solo for this competition, Rachel," Mr Schuester told her.

"Finally," declared Mercedes, grinning. "So what song do I get to sing?"

"I was thinking that the winners of our duets competition take the leads."

It took a moment for Quinn to realize that meant her and Sam. She bit her lip and let out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. Love Glee as she did, she still wasn't sure she was ready to perform at Sectionals as leads on a duet. Especially considering Blaine and Kurt were the competition. But Rachel's objections made her determined to do this. It may just have been an innocent observation (Quinn wasn't going to deny that her and Sam did look like Ken and Barbie), but it was a lot like the stereotyping she'd faced before. And the ones who'd done it didn't think she'd been able to succeed either, so now she was determined to prove them both wrong.

And beat Blaine.

_(15.01)_

_I don't need to cheat. I *know* we're going to win. Q_

_(15.04)_

_Well then. Let the battle commence. B_

The days until Sectionals passed pretty quickly. While the Glee club was rocked with drama after drama, Quinn did her best to just ignore it all and focus on learning the duet. While she didn't really care about whether they won or not, as it didn't change anything for her, really, Quinn was determined to at least beat the Warblers. She didn't have any idea what they were like, apart from "classic stool choir" and a dim memory of hearing Blaine sing before. So when they graced the stage before them at Sectionals, it kind of hit her what she was up against. Or, rather, who. Their lead singer was none other than Blaine.

"You've got to be kidding me," she muttered quietly, hiding her head in her hands.

Sam took her hand and squeezed it reassuringly, shooting her a smile. "We've got this."

Echoing his smile (albeit it shakily), Quinn turned back to the stage as the Warblers began their second song. She tried to forget that they were competing against one another. Her friends were on that stage, performing amazingly – she should be proud of them. Quinn remembered how Blaine had always wanted to perform, and had joined the glee club at Belleville despite the taunts he'd get by the jocks. Even though he'd run from them, to avoid the vulgar names, Blaine hadn't cared. Quinn remembered how positive Blaine had been, even as they hid in the janitor's closet to avoid the bullies. _It'll get better_, he'd told her, _and one day we'll laugh about this. One day when we're performing on Broadway, or writing bestsellers, and they're the ones washing cars for a living. _

But Blaine hadn't been laughing the day after the Sadie Hawkins Dance, when he dropped out of Belleville.

"Quinn?"

Blinking back to reality, she shuddered at the image before looking up to see the last few lines of the song before the Warblers finished. Rachel was the first one her feet, clapping like a lunatic, and Kurt looked relieved when Mercedes and Quinn joined her. Slowly, the rest of the audience rose to their feet. Over their heads, Quinn's eyes met Blaine's and she saw a grin on his face. She smiled back, glad that he'd managed to overcome the bullies who had beat and bruised him to stand in front of a standing ovation. Suddenly the competition didn't seem important now.

She felt Sam tugging her arm, gesturing that it was time. Taking a deep breath, she turned away from Blaine and together New Directions stole out the back of the auditorium, going to their green room to wait for the brief intermission before they could begin their set. Sat back there, waiting… that was the worst part. Quinn clenched and unclenched her fist, beginning to feel her palm grow sweaty with nerves.

"Are you okay?" Sam asked, sitting beside her.

"No," she confessed. "I'm totally freaking out. The last time I performed in front of an audience, I went into labor. I think I'm having post-traumatic stress disorder."

"F.Y.I, I'm totally available to fill in," Mercedes informed her, turning the page in the magazine she was reading.

Quinn looked up and smiled at her, and Mercedes smirked back.

Just then, Rachel stormed into the room and confronted Finn. "You told Kurt?"

He blinked and frowned. "I don't remember. Maybe?"

"About Finn and Santana?" Mercedes checked, before going back to her magazine. "No. I think I told him."

Rachel glared at her. "Who told you?"

"Me," Quinn admitted. "I think Brittney told me. Or maybe it was Puck."

"Yeah, it was me," he confirmed.

"Everybody knew but me?" Rachel asked.

Tina nodded. "Pretty much."

"Nobody tells you anything because a) you're a blabbermouth," Santana told Rachel bitchily, "and b) we all pretend to like you."

"That's not true," Puck objected. "I kind of like her."

Quinn lost track of the conversation next, as the group began to descend into anarchy before her eyes. She didn't care much for Rachel's mood, but finding out that she didn't want to be on stage with Finn – and Tina and Artie refusing to go on with mike and Brittney – scared her. Performing with a group was one thing, performing with a small group was another entirely. It was only three people, but it was enough to freak her out again. She noticed she was shaking slightly as Mr Schuester entered the room.

"Enough!" he shouted, and the room fell silent. "Listen to yourselves! I am ashamed of you. Think back to where we were this time last year – in this room. No set list, no choreography, no chance in hell of winning. But you did win, because you did it together. Look, I don't care if you guys hate each other. All I want is for you guys to go out there and sing together. Get up there and for six minutes, remind yourselves that you're not alone."

Just as he finished his little speech, the bell rang, signaling that they should begin to get into position. No one moved, though. Instead, they looked around at each other, all feeling and thinking the same thing. In one movement, they all stood and left the room. No one spoke, not until they split off, Quinn and Sam going one way while the rest headed to the wings. A few bid them a few words of encouragement and even Rachel spared a smile. And then they were alone.

Sam and her walked in silence as they walked around to the back of house, but Sam's hand was steady and secure in Quinn's. At her position, Quinn went to let go but Sam held on tighter as he stopped to face her, grinning.

"What?" she asked, worried.

In the other room, the audience were applauding as Sam's grin upgraded to a smirk. "You look beautiful."

And then he was gone, daring across the hall before the music began. Quinn watched him, exhaling as he disappeared out, into the auditorium. Then she was alone. Feeling her palms sweating again, she clenched and unclenched her fists again, closing her eyes. _Focus_.

She could hear Sam's voice and she swallowed, listening to it until she heard her cue. She exhaled again, before pushing back the curtain in the doorway in front of her. The bright lights hit her and she blinked, swallowing before she began moving. _This is it._

Her eyes flew to Sam; that was what they'd agreed – they'd look at each other and pretend there was no one else around. He knew how nervous she was, especially after last year, so he'd told her to keep her eyes locked on his. But that was hard when Sam stopped in front of a smirking Blaine, amused. Quinn's eyes flew to his for a moment, and she knew what he was thinking; Sam. She bit her lip, holding back a smile unsuccessfully, before snapping her glaze back to Sam.

Quinn refused to look at Blaine again for the entire song, keeping her eyes on her boyfriend until the end notes rung out. Kurt was the first one on his feet, a big grin on his face, and Quinn blushed as the rest of the auditorium followed. She only a moment to absorb it, though, before she was dashing into place for the next song.

Although the worst part of the competition was over for her, the worst part of the entire competition was coming up; judging. After their set, there was another break, longer than the others so the judges could compile scores. While Quinn remembered last years to be long, they were lined up, waiting to go back on stage for results in only twenty minutes.

"That's good, right?" Tina asked.

Quinn shrugged, glancing around as the line began to jostle and move forwards.

Once the three glee clubs were on stage, all completely silent with nerves, the host appeared and stood beside the trophy table before addressing the audience, "And now, this years Head Judge, Associate Director of the Ohio Department of Motor Vehicles, Mr Pete Sosnowski."

As another man made his way to the front of the stage, Sam's hand found Quinn's and she locked their fingers together. She shouldn't care so much about a stupid show choir competition, but she did and she didn't know why.

After a bit of banter, Mr Sosnowski announced, "In third place... The Hipsters."

The elderly glee club stepped forwards to accept their trophy, all smiles, apparently pleased to have come – well, last. The Head Judge decided it was only polite to wait until they'd left the stage to go on, but they took so long hobbling off that he just shrugged and went on.

"And now, the winner of this year's West-Central Sectionals is… It's a tie. Congratulations! You're all going to regionals!"

The surprise was what hit them first, and Quinn looked around to see all the faces around her echoing her thoughts. A tie? Was that even allowed? She'd never heard of a tie for first place before. She was positive that there was a rule that only one group went through. Not that she was complaining. The Warblers had been good, and if they hadn't of made it through, Rachel would have blamed Quinn for the rest of her life. No, a tie was good.

The groups shuffled off stage, all talking in high spirits. After all the dancing she'd done in heels, Quinn's feet were aching badly and she decided enough was enough. She hung back and, once there were less people in the wing of the stage, she began unfastening her shoe. The green room wasn't far away, but she couldn't bear to hobble any further. She'd only kept them on after the last song because Rachel had threatened her.

Her fingers fumbled around the strap, unable to get them off. Frowning, Quinn lost her balance and fell forwards, reaching out to stead herself. Her fingers found something and she clutched desperately at it. Someone chuckled and a hand came to rest on her elbow, helping her.

"Heels never were your forte."

Quinn looked up and smiled when she saw she was clutching to Blaine. "Hey. Congratulations."

"You too. Your first song was amazing."

She blushed as she released her foot from her shoe. "Thanks."

"So," Blaine went on, as she changed balancing feet. "Any celebratory plans?"

"No," she said, before confessing, "My glee club is not exactly all on speaking terms right now."

"Not going out with Sam? Who is very nice, by the way. I approve."

Quinn looked up from her strap and smiled. "No. He has to get home to look after his brother and sister. What about you and Kurt? Are you two going to – err – 'celebrate'?"

"We're just friends," he replied, as Quinn balanced herself on two feet again. "But the Warblers will probably celebrate. You could come out with us, if you want?"

She shook her head. "No, it's okay."

"Well, if you change your mind, text me."

"I doubt I will, but sure."

Blaine looked at her hard for a moment. "You're doing homework, aren't you?"

"No!" she objected as they began to walk back to the green rooms. "No, I'm just tired and I don't really fancy going out with a group of guys I barely know."

"I'm going to stop by afterwards and check."

"Fine. You do that."

They reached McKinley's green room and they stopped.

"I'll see you later then," Quinn said.

Blaine smirked. "Yeah."

Quinn went to open the door but Blaine's voice stopped her. "Quinn?"

She looked up. "Yes?"

"It's on for Regionals, y'know."

She smirked. "Oh, I know."


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: I feel like I should appologise for the lateness of this, as the only excuse I have is that I was running around like a headless chicken, trying to sort out my portfolio and generally just worrying about my interview last Thursday. So this is a little shorter and pretty AU compared to other chapters (... okay, a lot more AU) but hopefully you'll enjoy it all the same.**

* * *

><p>"<em>Happy Christmas, Mrs Fabray!"<em>

From her bedroom, Quinn closed her eyes and took a deep breath as she heard Blaine's joyous voice echo up stairs to her. Releasing it, she dropped her pen and went out onto the landing, watching as he finished talking to her parents. Over the years, she'd forgotten how festive Blaine was, celebrating each holiday as if it was his last. Christmas had always been the worst. He had enough Christmas cheer for the whole world, so she didn't bother trying to echo his joy as he turned to her.

"Happy Christmas, Quinn!"

"We've got another week yet," she replied, smirking as he bounced up the stairs towards her.

"Quinn!" called her mother from the kitchen, scowling.

Blaine grinned and stuck his tongue out, thinking he'd won.

Instead of replying, Quinn just rolled her eyes and led the way to her room.

Ever since she'd met Blaine at the beginning of Middle School, her parents had always loved him. She didn't understand why – maybe it was because they'd gotten sick of her elder sister's fancy friends who only cared for themselves. Blaine was different to them, in that he was her friend. He stuck by her no matter what, and he always wore a smile. That was probably a clincher for her mother, who soon let him stay over at the Fabray household whenever he liked.

When they'd found out that Quinn was back in contact with Blaine, it had somehow spiraled. They'd never been keen of the friends she'd made at McKinley, besides Mercedes and Kurt, so they'd responded to Blaine popping up as if they'd found out a pet had survived a car accident. At first, Blaine had been a bit awkward, very aware of what had happened, before relaxing back into his old self; the self that was part of the family. Now, he was able to come over uninvited and Quinn was allowed – encouraged, even – to drop everything for him. That was how their Friday night movie marathons had been reinstated.

"So I brought Elf and Santa Clause," Blaine informed her, collapsing on Quinn's bed as she moved a few things. "I thought we could have a Christmas movie night."

Quinn sighed. "Not that I don't love Christmas, I'd just rather we had an ordinary movie night. I'm all Christmassed out from school."

"Oooh!" he replied, sitting up as if to attention, suddenly interested. "What have you been doing?"

She sighed again, collapsing beside him before telling him the long, sorry tale. Or tales, as their failed mission to sing for students and their plan to keep Brittney believing were two different stories. Both of which she were beginning to resent agreeing too. But she had a commitment to Brittney, as both her friend and cheerleading captain; that was the only reason she was putting up with Artie's crazy idea.

"Whoa," Blaine said when she'd finished. "I wish Dalton was like that. All we did for Christmas was decorate the Warbler hall a little. And that was planned; Kurt wouldn't let us put stuff up haphazardly."

Quinn grinned. "Sounds like he's got you all under control."

"He's taking over," he agreed, echoing the grin before letting it fall. "He misses you guys, though."

"And we miss him," she replied, letting a silence fall between them before she stated, "We should tell him."

Blaine nodded, biting his lip. "How about tonight?"

Quinn sat up, blinking. "Tonight?"

"Yeah. We're free, he's free," he said, before adding timidly, "Plus I'm leaving tomorrow."

She blinked; Blaine was full of surprised tonight. "Leaving? What do you mean?"

"I'm singing in the Kings Island Christmas Spectacular, so I'm going to stay with Cooper," he informed her, smiling. "I'm singing 'Baby, It's Cold Outside'. Kurt helped me rehearse, actually."

Quinn couldn't stop herself grinning; Blaine was so oblivious. He always had been. But she'd rather not remember _that_ right now.

"Say something," Blaine demanded, poking her rib. "Quinn?"

"I can't believe you're leaving me with such short notice," she said instead. "Again."

She saw Blaine bit his lip, but he didn't continue the topic, asking instead, "So are we going to tell Kurt?"

Quinn sighed. "I don't know… It seems a bit… I don't know – rushed? Like we're running into a battle we've only just spotted."

"You always thing of things as a battle," he said, rolling his eyes. "Has it ever accrued to you that life is sometimes less harsh?"

Quinn didn't reply; the things she'd experienced lately had definitely been battles.

Blaine sighed. "Look, it'll be fine. It's not like we planned to kidnap him or anything. We were just making sure he was okay – like friends do."

"Yeah, I guess…" she mused, before groaning. "Okay, fine. But I'm driving; knowing you, you've only got Christmas music in your CD player."

Blaine beamed. "Deal."

That was pretty much as far as they went in the terms of planning the big revelations. While Quinn found her keys and said goodbye to her parents, telling them where they were going and when they'd be back (even though, with Blaine in tow, they didn't care), Blaine called Kurt and they met at her car. Neither spoke, so Quinn drove in silence as Blaine tampered with her radio, trying to change the station. By the time they got to Breadsticks, it was still on the same channel and Quinn was biting back a laugh; he'd never been any good at gadgets. No, plans were Blaine's expertise.

"So we're just going to go in there, wait for him and say it?" she asked, following the waitress to their seats.

Blaine pursed his lips, thinking as he fell in step with her. "I think I should be the first person he sees. And when he's sat opposite me, you come back from the bathroom or something and we tackle his presumptions with the truth."

Quinn nodded. "Worth a shot, I guess."

"You know Kurt better than I do and you're freaking out?" he said, sighing as they sat.

"I think you know him better," she challenged, peeling off her coat. "From what I've heard, you've been like a mentor and confidant to him. He's told you so much in vast detail while we scarcely know of it. He's never had that – an openly gay guy to guide him and look out for him."

"You've got three years on me, though," objected Blaine.

"Can we drop the subject because I think I just saw Kurt's Navigator turn into the car lot?"

Opposite her, Blaine moved to look over her shoulder before nodding. "He's here," he confirmed, before turning back to her. "You should go, hide, disappear. Quick."

"Here," she replied quickly, shoving her bag and jacket at him to hide before slipping out of the booth. "I'll wait a few minutes before coming back."

Blaine nodded, but his eyes were over her shoulder. Quinn didn't need to follow his gaze to know what – or rather, who – he was watching. Outside, Kurt was walking towards the restaurant door, his face a mixture of emotions, not sure why he'd been asked to meet Blaine. She grinned, looking at Blaine's eyes trained on Kurt, his mouth open a little, as she stood. It was painful how oblivious they both were. She wanted to just scream at them, to just admit it already. But she decided to focus on one thing to once, and snuck into the girls bathrooms to wait.

Leaning against the taps, Quinn crossed her arms as she tried to play out the conversation, so she had a vague idea of when to move. Kurt would be sitting down now… they'd greet each other… Blaine would then compliment him… Kurt would compliment Blaine back, perhaps something about his gel-free hair… Then he'd ask why they were meeting.

She sighed as she stood, smoothing out the crinkles of her dress, checking her make-up in the mirror. Quinn felt like she was readying herself for battle, despite what Blaine had said. She didn't know how Kurt was going to react to this; when it came to topics like bullying, he was more than sensitive. Pulling back the bathroom door, she tried to picture his face when then told him. The knot in her stomach tightened and she pushed it from mind, trying instead to focus on walking to their booth.

"…why you asked to meet," Kurt was saying as she got closer to them. "You said you were spending your last night with your family."

"Well, you see…" Blaine began, before looking up as she stopped beside them, his eyes relieved when he saw her. "Quinn."

She smiled feebly. "Hey, Kurt."

"Hey," he replied cautiously, not sure what was going on.

"Sit," ordered Blaine, moving up so she could drop onto the seat beside him. "I don't like it when you stand over me. You're tall enough as it is."

Opposite them, Kurt's forehead furrowed. "Wait… You two _know_ each other?"

Quinn looked at Blaine, seeing the same uncertainty in his eyes. "Well, we did. We went to the same Middle school – Belleville – before Blaine transferred to Dalton. We lost all contact then"

"Until recently, but that doesn't matter," Blaine finished, looking straight at Kurt. "We wanted to talk to you about… about the bullying."

Kurt pursed his lips. "What about it?"

"Blaine asked me to keep an eye on you at McKinley," Quinn admitted, making Blaine fidget under Kurt's sharp stare. "He knew we were friends and we were friends. So I did, because I know what bullying is like and how… how it can hurt you in so many different ways. I tried – I really did. I even went along with Rachel's stupid plan that only ended in Sam getting a black eye. I probably could have done more, but I was there, Kurt. I was looking out for you."

"Why were you so surprised when I said I was transferring, then?"

Quinn couldn't stop herself from laughing as she remembered. "I wasn't surprised. At first, I felt like I'd failed you but then… then it made complete sense. You weren't just transferring; you were making yourself closer to Blaine, to the person who understood how you felt and was doing everything he could to help. And I understand because that's how I made friends with Blaine."

Kurt snorted. "I don't believe that you – prom princess to be – were ever bullied."

"Kurt," Blaine said quietly, warning him and they both started at him, surprised. "You can't hate when someone judges you for face value and then do the same to someone else. Everyone is more complex than they seem."

He sighed and nodded. "You're right. That was pretty hypocritical of me. Sorry, Quinn."

She shook her head. "It's fine. It's all in the past."

Kurt snorted. "And how could I forget last year! You and your – "

"_Kurt_!"

He looked at her, eyes wide, before realizing and biting his lip. "Oh, sorry. I didn't realize. I mean, I presumed, since you're friends, that Blaine knew."

"Know what?" Blaine asked, frowning. "Quinn, what – "

"Nothing, it's fine," she assured, before changing the subject as she grabbed a menu. "So, now we're here, are we going to eat?"

"No, I should probably get going," Kurt replied, standing. "I left Finn at home by himself. God knows what's happened by now. Thank you for… telling me."

"Have a good Christmas, Kurt," Blaine said softly.

He smiled. "You too. Have fun at the Kings Island Christmas Spectacular. I'm sure you'll be wonderful. Bye."

"Bye," they echoed, watching him walk across the restaurant and out the door.

Blaine sighed and leant back. "Well, then."

"Yeah," she replied.

Blaine was quiet for a moment, thinking perhaps, before deciding, "We should get back too. We still have movies to watch."

"I think I'm ready for a bit of festive cheer," Quinn admitted as she stood.

They drove back in silence, but it was different this time. Quinn was fully aware that something had changed, and it was nothing to do with what they'd just told Kurt. No, it was to do with what hadn't been said; what Kurt had nearly let slip. Blaine didn't know about her pregnancy, and that was how she was going to keep it. He didn't need to know. It made no difference now. She'd give the baby away and was rebuilding her life. Nothing would change if he knew, so there was no point in Blaine knowing… right?


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: I'd just like to say that, I know you had to wait a while for this chapter, but the next should be up soon as I have a few weeks off college now. Bear in mind, however, that I have a Coopinn (Quinn/Cooper) story I'm writing and a Arthurian Klaine fic I want to start. But this one is my main priority right now. **

* * *

><p>Over Christmas, Quinn managed to avoid Blaine.<p>

For the majority of the time, he was away, first for the King's Island Spectacular and then to spend Christmas with his grandparents in New York. There were a few days between, when Blaine badgered her to hang out – and consequently talk – but she managed to keep him away by saying she had family over. Which wasn't a lie. Quinn's sister had made the trip home from Chicago to visit for the holiday and didn't leave until the school semester had safely started again.

After that, Quinn was genuinely too busy with school to see Blaine. The Cheerios were gearing up for their Regionals while the McKinley Titans were winning game after game, meaning the cheerleaders were out almost every weekend cheering them on after a torturous week of perfecting their competition performance. Plus Glee club was a constantly battle of trying to stay awake and wanting to block out Rachel's irritating voice.

But that was nothing compared to the actual battle that was fought – but not won – earlier that day. Biting her lip and tapping her pencil mindlessly, Quinn thought about what having the football players in Glee meant. Half of her was glad, understanding Mr Schue and Coast Beiste's reasoning. But even that didn't cancel out what they'd done to Kurt, and anyone who'd tried to stop them. Or the fact that they weren't even sorry, not a little bit.

Just like the jocks who had chased Blaine out of Belleville.

She rarely thought about Belleville and the terror that had been Middle School and, if she did, it was only to appreciate how much her life had changed since she'd gotten the hell out of there. She scarcely could remember the days when she'd been pushed into lockers and tripped on her way to Math. But the humiliation had never left. Quinn was sure no one could forget something that burnt as much as that. Especially as last year had dragged it all back.

She knew it was only a matter of time before Blaine found out about the baby and she knew it was best coming from her. Of course, there was only one problem; what would he do when he found out? Quinn wasn't scared of him turning his back on her, washing his hands of her. She was sure Blaine would never do that. It was what he wouldn't do, what he'd hide from her. She'd only seen disappointment in his eyes a few times, but she was sure she never wanted to see it again. So it was best if Blaine never knew.

There was person who didn't know this, however, and that was Kurt, who'd already nearly blurted it out.

Ignoring the no phone rule of Friday night homework, Quinn picked up her cell phone and quickly typed out a message to him before pushing the problem from her mind so she could focus on the ones in front of her. Which were growing in quantity every day.

"No fricking way."

"We don't have a choice," explained Schue, sighing at the reluctance he was facing. "Sue pulled the cheerleaders from the game, so if we don't do it, there won't be a halftime show."

"And this is a problem because?" asked Lauren Zizes.

"It's not a problem, it's an opportunity."

"And opportunity to humiliate ourselves," muttered a jock.

"_Hey_!" reproached Beiste. "The whole point of this week was to bring guys together, to bring the school together."

"Wait," another football player spoke up. "You want us to play the first half, change into some sequined ball gowns and then go out and do the halftime show at our own championship game?"

"Yes."

"It's the _championship game_!"

Quinn didn't understand what his problem was; it wasn't like he was being asked to pick between two of the things that kept him sane. But she was, and she didn't know what to do. She loves Glee, but she was first and foremost a cheerleader. She didn't want to pick between them – so she didn't. She wasn't the only one, either. While the Glee Club began rehearsing for the halftime performance, Quinn, Santana and Brittney attended Zombie Camp with them, but only when it didn't clash with cheerio practice.

But, as it grew closer to the championship game and the Regional cheerleading competition date, Quinn knew they needed to pick.

"What the hell are we going to do?" she blurted, turning away from her reflection to see Santana and Brittney looking at her, pausing from cleaning their face of zombie make-up. "If we go to our cheerleading competition, then we miss the halftime show and we're out of Glee club. I'm torn."

"I'm not," replied Santana confidently, turning back to the mirror.

"I'm Brittney," Britt replied nonsensically.

"Couldn't help but overhear your conversation," boomed a voice behind them.

They turned to see Coach Sylvester coming out of a bathroom cubicle. The sound of the toilet's flush was dying away but Quinn wasn't fooled.

"What were you doing in there?" she demanded, putting her hands on her hips.

"Enjoying the eavesdropping afforded me by the Swiss timepiece regularity and utter silence of my two pm ninja poops," Sylvester confessed boldly, stalking forwards to wash her hands in the sink Quinn was stood beside before moving away to dry her hands. "Well, I typed these up for you ladies, requiring your signature tendering your reservation from the Glee Club."

Quinn frowned as she watched her Coach hand out pieces of paper, stopping at Brittney last so she could hand her a separate piece of paper, saying, "Oh, and Brittney, here's a note for you handwritten and in crayon from the human cannon, saying how much it misses you."

She couldn't stand it any longer. "Coach, that cannon is going to get Brittney killed! Is that really worth it just to win a stupid national championship?"

"Seventh consecutive stupid national championship," corrected Sylvester coldly.

Quinn shook her head, not caring. "This is stupid."

"You had quite the year last year, Q," Coach Sylvester reminded slyly. "And as I recall, you didn't have such a good time out of that Cheerios uniform."

She opened her mouth to retort, to reply, to say _something_, but couldn't because her Coach was right and, as much as he hated to admit it, the fear of it happening again was keeping her on the fence. She didn't need Cheerios, but she enjoyed the safety of the group. Without them, all she had was Glee – something her parents didn't like. To stay in Glee, she had to stay in Cheerios for them. It was a continuous loop she couldn't find a way to stop circling.

"Quinn?"

She looked up, surprised to see Blaine stood at the kitchen island. A small smile was on his face as he watched her with his chin balanced on his hands, his elbows leaning against the work surface. At the sight, she smiled briefly, before turning her gaze back to the mixing bowl in front of her as she stirred in the flour.

"Your mom said you were in here," he explained, before moving to help her weigh out the chocolate chips, musing, "You only bake when you're upset. What's up?"

"Nothing," she replied vaguely, looking up just in time to catch Blaine popping a chocolate chip into his mouth. "Hey!"

He grinned guiltily before pouring them into the mix, telling her, "Make a wish."

"That's Christmas cakes, Blaine," Quinn reminded, rolling her eyes.

But still she did it, wishing that she'd figure out what team to pick.

"So are you going to tell me what's bugging you?" Blaine asked casually, leaning across her to get the spoons to dollop the mix into cases. "In exchange, I'll tell you what's bugging me."

Quinn met his eyes and frowned, her mind working through what could be bugging Blaine before she decided to take the bait. "Okay, fine."

After that, it all just came out.

She told Blaine about the football team, how they weren't exactly a team but two forces trying to bond over one common ground. She told Blaine about Mr Schue and Coach Beiste's crazy idea to force the sides together by making it compulsory for the football team to be in Glee Club for a whole week. She told Blaine about Coach Sylvester and how, in a fit of rage, moved the Regional Cheerleader competition to the same day as the big football game.

"Which means you have to pick; glee or cheerleaders," presumed Blaine, nodded as he peeled off the paper case of a freshly cooked cupcake. "Well, I don't see a problem."

Quinn turned and blinked at him, her eyes wide. "You _don't_?"

"No," he said, eyes only for his cake. "I've known you a long time, okay, and never once in Middle School did you want to be a cheerleader – "

"Blaine," she warned, not sure they should go down _that_ route right then.

"Of course, people change," he went on, before looking up. "But I don't think you have, really. Not inside. You may pretend to be this cool, awesome, popular kid but really you're one of those glee kids at heart. And, yeah, I get that after last year, you want to prove to people that, no matter what happened, you're able to bounce back so they'll respect you – but, honestly, Quinn, people will respect you more if you ignore what everyone else thinks and just be you. Do what you want to do."

She smiled softly, before shaking her head. "It's not that simple. I _need_ to be in Cheerios."

"Then be in Cheerios; go to the competition on Saturday. If it's what you need," Blaine replied, shrugging. "Either way, people are going to judge you and you're just going to have to think up a good reasoning for your actions."

Like always, Blaine was right so, come lunchtime the next day, Quinn was not at all surprised to see Finn – self, or rather Rachel appointed leader of the New Directions – storming up to her, slamming her locker shut in the process.

"How the hell could you do this?" he demanded.

She groaned and turned, stalking down the corridor and making him hurry to follow. "Oh, don't get all up in my face, Finn! What were we supposed to do?"

"Uh, quit Cheerios," he replied. "Coach Sylvester is awful to you guys. And don't forget who was there the last time she dumped you on your ass! Us. Glee Club."

Unable to take much more, she turned to face him, squaring up to him in the middle of the busy corridor. "And you don't think I feel awful about that?"

"You don't need to be a Cheerio to be cool."

"Oh, you are so naïve," Quinn snapped. "This whole school is about labels."

"Wow," Finn gushed coldly. "I never realised you were so freaking weak."

The words panged inside but, instead, she replied, "Oh."

Before she could retort, though, from her right, Sam's voice asked, "What did you just say?"

"All the Cheerios quit Glee," Finn explained.

Sam frowned. "So why are you yelling at my girlfriend about it?"

"I'm yelling at her because I'm leader of this team," he replied.

"Maybe it's time for a change at the top."

Finn blinked. "What's that supposed to mean?"

_Oh, God,_ Quinn thought, internally groaning, _Not more drama please._

Luckily, before it began to escalate, Mr Schue was there, pulling the boys apart and dragging them into Glee Club. Quinn watched them go, trying not to show how much she wanted to follow them into the choir room. But she had to stick with the decision she'd chosen so, which a deep sigh, she turned and began walking outside to the football pitch for practice.

The next few days were torture. Sylvester pushed them harder than she had before, having them rehearse every spare moment. By the morning of the competition, after a late-running practice the night before, Quinn's legs ached like it was nobody's business and she spent the hours before they had to leave in a tub full of hot water, trying to soothe her tired muscles. To get to school on time, she literally had to drag herself out and into the car. She drove in silence, trying not to think about how it was too late to turn back and sing at the half time show. Because, despite everything she'd told Finn and Blaine and even herself, she knew that's what she should have picked. What they all should have picked.

"I'm going to die," muttered Brittney as they watched the cannon being loaded.

"It'll be worth it," Santana tried to justify, but they all knew it was a lie.

"_Hey!_"

At the sound of the familiar voice, they all turned to see Finn jogging towards them, dressed in his football uniform and carrying his helmet. He'd obviously come straight from the match, abandoning his team and the game to find them.

Quinn frowned. "What are you doing here?"

"Stopping you from going to Sue's regionals competition," he explained as if it was obvious. "You guys gotta come to the game with me."

"Haven't you been paying attention?" Quinn asked. "If we're not Cheerios, we're nothing."

_And I don't do well being nothing_, she added to herself.

"You think that, but it's not true," Finn objected. "You joined Cheerios to be popular, but you joined Glee Club because you loved it. Sue doesn't care about you guys. She's fine killing Brittney. Tell me honestly; if you didn't think it would hurt your reputation, which would you choose?"

"Glee Club," answered Brittney, saying what they were all thinking.

Finn took a step closer to Quinn, who bit her lip, and said quietly, "I know you. And you don't think you are, but you're strong enough to do this."

She didn't know how he knew, but she didn't care. Since last year, all Quinn had wanted to do was seem strong and pretend she was fine. But she wasn't. She was far from it. Pulling her life back together, and pretending to be the person Blaine thought she was, was harder than she'd ever dreamt. She was struggling to keep it together, and being a Cheerio – although helping in one sense – was making it worse. She hadn't thought she was strong enough to let it go, though, to take away the safety net and quit. But hearing someone else think she was, someone else having faith in her…

Quinn smiled softly and nodded. "Okay."

Finn beamed in reply, before turning to the other two. "What about you, Santana?"

"Screw her," she replied, grinning. "She put me at the bottom of the pyramid."

"Come on," Finn told them. "We've only got a few minutes."

They nodded and went to follow him when a Coach Sylvester, "No time for a foursome, ladies. Bus leaves in five."

Quinn grinned, taking great pleasure as she informed her, "We quit Cheerios."

"You can't quit Cheerios," Sylvester replied angrily. "It's blood in, blood out. Now get your sweet little cans on the bus."

"But we _still_ quit," Santana told her.

As she opened her mouth, they started walking away again, all biting their lips to keep their joy hidden inside. Sure, they were going to miss being on the team, but it was for the best. They didn't need Cheerios anymore. Not when they had Glee Club.

It took them about ten minutes to get changed into their zombie costumes and get to the pitch. The others were waiting for them, and cheered when they appeared from the bathroom. Quinn noticed that all the football players were there, dressed up and ready to go, despite having refused (and thus been kicked off the team) before. The only person who wasn't there was Dave Karofsky, and Quinn wasn't surprised. From what she'd seen of the bullying, he was too far gone to be affected by this.

But that was his loss. The performance was amazing and was over before she knew it. As soon the music had stopped and the crowd's cheering had already begun, Quinn felt herself being pulled in a tight hug by Mercedes, who was giggling uncontrollable. Quinn felt the laughing catching and soon she was giggling too as they made their way to the side lines, the boys dashing off to have a quick break in the locker room before the second half.

As they went, Quinn spotted Karofsky among them. Apparently, somewhere during the performance, he'd decided that actually, it wouldn't be a bad thing to join in with all the singing and dancing. Quinn wasn't sure what good it had done, but it was a start. A small smile crept on her face and she turned, accepting the pom-poms Rachel gave her with a tentative smile. Quinn just smiled back and shook them as the boys jogged back onto the pitch. While the crowd cheered, she watched as they took their positioned, still wearing their zombie make-up.

Out of the corner of her eye, a face caught her eye and Quinn looked up to see Kurt sat in the bleachers, cheering loudly with a beam on his face. It had been a while since Quinn had seen him that happy and she smiled, realising why. Sat beside Kurt was Blaine, who was grinning and clapping too, his eyes scanning the football pitch before landing on her. Quinn watched and waited as Blaine looked at her, figuring out her decision, before grinning broadly. He signalled at her to wait at the end of the match, when he dashed down with Kurt to see them.

There was loud chatter as Kurt moved among them, hugging everyone at least twice (except Mercedes, who managed to sneak a third one from her best friend) while Blaine stood awkwardly. After her second hug, Quinn spotted him and moved through the group until she'd reached him.

Instantly, the grin returned to his face. "So you picked Glee, in the end?"

Quinn bit her lip to hide her smile, admitting, "It took a while, but I got there."

"It'll be okay, y'know," he assured. "Of course, you'll miss it at first – but, eventually, you'll get to the point where you don't understand why you cared for it at all."

She was silent for a moment, catching a glimpse of Finn over Blaine's shoulder, before saying in a small voice, "I know."

Then, she wasn't sure why Finn's words had had such an effect on her. But, later that night when she was lying in bed, staring at the shadows dancing across her ceiling, Quinn realised why. Earlier in the year, Finn had admitted that he still had feelings for her. Even though he was with Rachel. Quinn had pushed them aside, not wanting to date – of course, Sam had changed that. Back then, she didn't think she still loved Finn – not like she had; of course she would fond of him and what he did for her, the happy memories of them. But now… Now she wasn't sure if that was the only way she loved him.

"Hey," he greeted, turning to find her leant against a locker the next morning, where she was watching him and thinking about her revelation the night before.

"Hi," she replied, smiling. "I never got a chance to thank you for helping me do the right thing."

"Ah, well," Finn said, shrugging. "You would have come to it on your own soon enough. So how does it feel being out of the uniform?"

"Weird," she confessed. "Did turn a couple of heads."

He chuckled and a silence fell between them which, to Quinn, was full of tension. She bit her lip, knowing she had to break it somehow, and found herself saying, "You were amazing this week. On and off the field. It reminded me of why I loved you."

Before she could stop herself, Quinn was leaning up, lifting her arm to wrap around Finn's neck and draw him down so she could press her lips to his. There was a second were he didn't react and then his arms were on her hips and he was kissing her back before they broke away.

Finn frowned, before studying her face, thinking. Quinn saw the doubt in his face and swallowed, biting her lip before she walked away. His silence told her she might have pushed the mark, that what he'd said at the start of the year didn't apply anymore, or he didn't love her enough to leave Rachel. But the question was: did she still love him to leave Sam?


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: I know a said an update soon but... sigh, real life sucks. But I'm free from school now so I WILL be updating soon... in fact, I might squeeze out another before I sleep tonight :) **

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><p>"Valentine's Day is coming up!"<p>

Quinn groaned, fidgeting in her chair as the rest of the choir cheered. Of course they liked the day; the majority of them were in relationships that would ooze affection and cheese when the day actually arrived. While she was still with Sam, what she'd done after the football game was still haunting her. She still wasn't sure what she wanted, and it was made worse by Finn, who she'd catch staring at her every so often.

Like now.

"Well?"

Quinn blinked, brought back to reality by Sam, who was watching her carefully. She had the feeling he'd just asked her something so, pasting a smile on her face, she nodded. "Sure."

"Mr Schue?" came Finn's voice over the chatter as the group paired up to do their Valentine Day task of singing a love song to someone. "Can I say something?"

From the front, Mr Schue shrugged and turned back to the papers he was sorting on the piano as Finn weaved his way down to stand in front of the class. All eyes were on him now, wondering what on earth he wanted to say.

"I just wanted to point out that, for the first time, an entire week has gone by without any one of us getting slusheed," he declared, and a few people clapped. "I think the fact I led the football team to a conference championship might have something to do with it. Fact is, I'm the closest thing that this glee club has to a celebrity right now and, just like a famous athlete, I want to give to a charity. You guys."

Throughout the group, the same confused and slightly insulted face Quinn was sure she was wearing was what she saw as she glanced around to see the rest of the groups' reactions as Finn went on.

"So I'm setting up a kissing booth for a dollar a smooch and donating the proceeds to the Glee Club to help us – "

"Don't even act like you're trying to help Glee Club," Mercedes told him firmly, while Santana nodded fiercely. "You just want to kiss a bunch of girls."

Suddenly, it all made sense.

Since the football game, Finn had been getting a lot of attention from people, particularly girls. He was - Quinn hated to admit it - the stud of McKinley. So it was a good idea to get girls who wanted to kiss him, to kiss him for a buck that would go towards the cost of getting to Regionals. But Finn had another motive, and it was the reason he'd been staring at her so often.

He expected her to kiss him for a dollar, to help the Glee Club.

Well, she wouldn't do it.

_But…_

Sigh, Quinn put down her pen, glancing at her half-finished homework before picking up her cell phone. The problem had been running around and around and around her mind all day since Finn had announced his kissing booth in Glee club that morning. It hadn't left at all, and the posters he'd put up for it hadn't helped anything. Knowing the only way to stop the problem chasing her in her dreams and into tomorrow, Quinn called the one person who could help.

He answered after the second ring, sounding flustered as he blurted, "Quinn, thank God you called! I need your help!"

Instantly, she forgot about her problem. "What is it? What's wrong?"

"I – Can you come around?"

"Sure, sure," she replied, not even thinking twice as she jumped up from her chair and grabbed her keys from her dresser. "I'll be there ASAP, okay?"

"Okay – and bring some cupcakes!"

Quinn assured him she would before hanging up, smiling as she remembered how Blaine comfort ate.

It had been a long a long time since Quinn had been to the Anderson's.

The house held memories that kept her sat on the doorway, staring up at the old house as she remembered how here, a thirteen year old girl had found a place she could call home. Blaine's family had always been welcoming to her, treating her like the daughter they never had. They probably thought she was a good influence on Blaine. And perhaps she was. Or had been. Now… Now Quinn wasn't sure she was a good influence for anyone. Even herself.

With a tin of cupcakes clenched in her hands, Quinn kicked shut her door, hoping to make enough noise that Blaine would hear her so he could come and save her from an awkward confrontation with his parents. Either he heard, or his parents weren't in; Blaine answered the door after the first ring, taking the box of cupcakes from her as she entered the spotless hallway.

"What type?" he asked, peeping in the tin as she toed off her trainers.

"Blueberry," she replied simply, preoccupied with aligning her shoes, knowing Mrs Anderson would freak out if she didn't; the woman's OCD could be seen from as far as Mars. "Now, what's up?"

Blaine opened his mouth before shutting it, nodding towards the kitchen before walking off. Quinn took that as a sign she should follow him, echoing his footsteps along the hallway, through the kitchen and into the conservatory. Notes and textbooks were scattered across the coffee table, although Quinn spotted a few lyric sheets hidden among them as she sat opposite him on the sofa.

"So," Quinn began, tucking her feet up on the chair behind her. "What's wrong? You sounded frantic on the phone."

Blaine pulled a face, shifting through papers before sighing and looking up at her. "Valentine's Day. That's what's wrong."

"Tell me about it," she muttered, watching as he picked up a cupcake and began taking the icing off with his finger. "It's like the worst day ever."

"At least you have someone to celebrate with," he muttered, offer Quinn a cupcake. "I bet Sam's full of – "

"I kissed Finn," she blurted, unable to stop herself before biting her lip.

Blaine frowned. "What?"

"I kissed Finn."

"But you're dating Sam."

"Yes, I know. Thanks for that reminder," she replied bitterly.

Blaine smiled apologetically, before asking softly, "What made you do it?"

Quinn sighed as she leant forwards to pick up a sheet of music, needing something to distract herself. "I don't know… It seemed like a good idea at the time. I mean, Finn had just stopped me making the worst decision of my life and he'd made the football team win conference but… God, I don't know. It was a mistake. But now he's – he's step up this stupid kissing booth at school and for a dollar, you can kiss him and the money goes towards glee club. I don't kiss him, people are going to say I don't want to help the club. But if I do…"

"Are you scared you'll begin to like him, if you kiss him again?"

She bit her lip, thinking about this before stating, "I'm scared I'll lose Sam by leading Finn on. And I've told him that! But he still… He won't leave me alone."

Blaine was silent for a while, his eyes down on the papers he'd just tidied before saying in a small voice, "What song are you singing to him for your valentine task?"

Quinn blinked. "How did you know about that?"

"Kurt's been talking to Mercedes," he shrugged, leaning forwards. "What love song would you sing to someone you've just met but really like?"

"Errm, well, I haven't really decided what I'm singing to Sam," she admitted slowly, frowning. "But that's not why you asked… is it?"

"No," Blaine confessed, picking up his pile of sheet music. "I was going to sing to someone for Valentine's Day."

"Someone you've just met and really like?"

"Yes."

Quinn frowned, before it hit her that she meant Kurt. "Oh! Oh, right. Ermm… Well… What about one of his favourite songs? Or something from one of his favourite – "

"You think it's a good idea?" he checked, glancing up at her. "To sing to someone for Valentine's?"

"Of course. If you love them."

"Which is why you're singing to Sam, not Finn," Blaine reminded, picking up a pencil and drawing a cross on one sheet before looking up again. "Doesn't that solve your problem?"

"Yeah," she sighed. "Yeah, I guess it does."

But it didn't.

Quinn wasn't entirely sure how it happened. One minute she was convinced she wanted to be with Sam and the next, she was in the auditorium kissing Finn. Again. At some point her conversation with Blaine had flown out of her mind, leaving nothing but an insane urge to date a football player who dumped her sorry ass when she was pregnant. Of course, he had been right to – she had cheated on him, with his best friend. But now Finn was the one cheating on his friend, despite his anger at it happening to him. So when the school nurse diagnosed them with mono, Quinn felt like the world was trying to tell her something.

Don't cheat.

In fact, don't bother with boys at all.

There was, of course, one boy who she would both with. Blaine. So when he called that afternoon, after her mom had picked her up from school and tucked her into bed, she took all the effort her ill-sickened body could muster and answered her cell phone to speak to him. It was hard, given her sore throat, but he'd known her long enough to be able to know what she was going to say without her even saying it first.

"You're sick, aren't you?" he said immediately. "You have French now so I expected to leave a voicemail because you don't answer your phone in class, so obviously you're not in class and – "

"Slow down," Quinn croacked. "What's wrong? You only talk this fast when you're excited or upset and you don't sound excited."

She must have hit the nail on the head as Blaine sighed and said normally, "I'm an idiot, that's what's wrong."

"I could have told you that," she teased, tugging her duvet closer. "What did you do?"

"I can't… I'm at school," he explained, sighing again. "Can I come around? I've got study hall now, and then Warblers."

"Wait. You're going to blow off Warblers?" she checked, surprised; that was something she never thought he'd do – the choir was too important to him. "Seriously, are you okay?"

Knowing him, Quinn suspected Blaine shrugged before admitting, "I can't go to it today… After yesterday… I just can't. I'll be there in forty minutes, okay?"

Before she could even say bye, Blaine had hung up and was gone. Presumably in a rush to get to her house. She bit her lip, putting her cell phone down and spent the forty minutes until he stepped into her room, looking sheepish and downcast. Her mind flew from thought to thought, each more worrying and ludicrous. And nothing would have prepared her for the truth, which he hesitated and avoided until it burst from him.

"Kurt thought I was going to sing to him."

"Well, yeah, of course he… Wait," she said suddenly, realising what this meant. "You didn't sing to him? Then who did you sing to?"

Blaine sighed, closing his eyes and he flung himself backwards on her bed, covering his face with a pillow. From behind it, he replied, the words muffled by the pillow so Quinn couldn't hear. Rolling her eyes, she leant forwards and tugged it out of his hands, kicking him with her foot as she did.

He took the hint and sat up, repeating as he did, "This guy… He doesn't like me; he made the very clear afterwards. It was stupid. _I_ was stupid. I _am_ stupid. I made the Warblers sing to him and all the time… Quinn, how couldn't I have known Kurt liked me like that?"

"I don't know," she admitted, smirking. "It's kind of plastered all over his face every time you're around or you're mentioned."

Blaine groaned and collapsed back on the bed. "I told you I was an idiot!"

"It's okay," Quinn assured, grabbing his hand and pulling him back up. "You're new at this whole love thing. The first time dealing with crushes and love is always the worst. Trust me. I had to endure yours."

At this, Blaine smirked. "Yeah, I remember."

She wasn't surprised he did, even though it had been years ago. After all, it had been awkward for both of them in the end. Because it had ended with both of them. And it had started with both of them. When a girl in Blaine's Maths class had asked him out, it was Quinn who had persuaded him to go – and it was Quinn who he'd rushed back to. It wasn't until afterwards that she found out the girl had gone in for a kiss, and Blaine had completely panicked. His reluctance to kiss her had sparked accusations that Blaine fancied Quinn so he'd decided to find out. As soon as Quinn had answered the door to have Blaine fling herself on her, crushing his lips to hers. The kiss only lasted a minute, before Blaine pulled away and left, giving her no explanation. They didn't talk until the next day, when Blaine took her aside and explained everything. It was a few weeks later that he'd come out as gay to her. And a few weeks after that, he'd been beaten up for it.

"Y'know… this is Kurt's first crush too," Quinn enlightened him, speaking carefully. "You're not going to hurt him, are you, Blaine?"

"What? No!" he yelped, insulted. "I would never hurt him. I mean… I think I like him to."

Quinn smirked as she raised an eyebrow. "You think?"

Seeing her face, Blaine rolled his eyes, unable to stop himself grinning as he confessed, "Okay, I do. But we've agreed to take it slow. Step by step. This is new to both of us."

"Awww!" gushed Quinn, flinging herself at him so she could squish her best friend.

"Whoa, hey, no! Keep away!" he protested, trying to push her away as he tried not to grin. "You're infected! I don't want to catch mono! Plus, I have to go. I'm supposed to be at Breadstix."

"Oooh, do you have a Valentine's date with Kurt?" she teased, letting him go and sitting back.

Blaine rolled his eyes as he got off her bed and stood, smoothing out the wrinkles in his uniform. "No. The Warbler's are singing at something Kurt's organised there. It sucks you can't go. Get better, though. I want you well when we beat you at Regionals."

Quinn laughed as he left (which quickly turned into a coughing fit that lasted ten minutes). Suddenly, she didn't care her Valentine's Day sucked (as usual) or she was ill. For the first time in a long while, Blaine was beyond content with his life – he was happy, and finally able to be who he wanted without getting crap for it. He'd always had it worse so she was glad that, finally, he had it better than her.


End file.
